


Charles Xavier, A Retelling

by Extra_fried_noodles



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, De-aged Charles, Fluff, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Post Beach, Slow build slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 74,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Extra_fried_noodles/pseuds/Extra_fried_noodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Beach. </p><p>An attempt to reverse his paralysis goes wrong, and Charles is de-aged into a 2 year old toddler. While Hank scrambles to fix the situation, the whole gang is here to help. Through a mix of selective memory, they watch Charles relive his childhood, revealing some deeply hidden and painful truths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thirty Three then Two

**Author's Note:**

> I love me some AUs and rarely even read canon-based stories, but I thought I'd challenge myself. Admittedly, it's still really AU-esque, but its a step ;)
> 
> Have a feeling this has been done before, and I'm sorry for the cliches, but who doesn't want more Wee-Charles freaking the crappers out of Erik??

"All the preliminary tests indicate that we will only need a tiny dose at medium power surge for this to reverse your cells enough to repair the tissue damage and paralysis."  
  
Hank had been working on this device for months. He did the tests on his own cells. Deep down, he was ashamed to admit, the true beginnings of this device was for the purposes of reversing his own 'disfigurement'. Those were normally particularly bad days, when he doubted whether the Professor's dreams were worth fighting for.  
  
"Are you absolutely sure it's a hundred percent safe for the Professor? I'm not letting him walk in there under a maybe!"  
  
Charles reached up and placed a reassuring hand at Alex's arm. "Nothing is a hundred percent. But if it can even ease some of the pain on my spine, I'll do it."  
  
"But Professor, it too dangero-"  
  
"I'm truly touched by your concern, but I have strong faith in Hank. When can we start?"  
  
"Right now, if you're ready, Professor."  
  
~  
  
Meanwhile, only a few miles from Westchester, Erik, Janos and Azazel appeared in a flash of dark sulfuric smoke outside the area's largest power plant.  
  
"Take care of the humans."  
  
Immediately, Azazel and Janos teleport away, and in the short distance, Erik hears shouting, screaming and finally the alarm.  
  
With both arms stealthily raised, Erik begun conducting his symphony of magnetic manipulation.  
  
He was going to cause a power surge strong enough to overload the reactor, ultimately resulting in a blackout long enough for them to enter several CIA facilities throughout the region with limited obstruction, including the one holding the telepath, Frost, in custody, and gather any other data of interest.  
  
~x~  
  
"H-have you heard from Charles recently?" Raven, now normally sleek with confidence, stood awkwardly on the other side of Erik's makeshift desk in her natural form.  
  
Agitation but also slight surprise ran across her mentor's brows and forehead. "No...should I have?" He has been busy sifting through piles of 'confiscated' paperwork from the CIA, hoping to get leads on the other secret facilities they have set up to hold mutants. With every passing second and every useless file, he regrets sending Frost over to investigate leads in Russia.  
  
"Well, it's just...*sigh* Every other day, if not everyday, when we're within his range, he'd sort of check up on me, say good night and all...He hasn't spoken to me for almost two weeks now. We're less than a mile away from Westchester, it's not like him..."  
  
Erik placed the file in his hands down and sat up straighter, "You think something has happened to him? Have to tried to call the mansion?"  
  
"I just did...the line was dead."  
  
"Get Azazel. Bring Angel and Janos as backup too. We go immediately."  
  
~x~  
  
The mansion looked as it did that first time he saw it. Magnificent, imposing, isolated, tranquil, haunting. Today was no different, basking under the golden sunlight.  
  
"Charles would have come to greet us by now, or have someone do so..." Raven's voice was full of concern as they stood in front of the elaborate front entrance, making their assessment of the situation.  
  
Erik felt no magnetic disturbance, nothing out of the ordinary anyway. There were people inside the mansion, that much he can tell, sensing the faint fuzz of the iron content within blood.  
  
"Angel, aerial scout. Azazel, take us to the east wing, I sense an abundance of blood flow there. Be on guard."  
  
After Angel took off, the four remaining joined hands, and poofed into the unknown.  
  
~x~  
  
"Holy crap!!" Sean tipped his bowl of Fruit Loops over and it sploshed all over the wooden table top as well as his shirt.  
  
"What the fuck are you people doing here!?"  
  
"Eerr...Technically, this is Raven's home, she has more of a right to be here than-" Hank adjusted his glasses and clears his throat when Alex glares at him.  
  
Then out from behind Sean, who was still busy wiping up the spill and cleaning up something else obstructed from view, a loud delighted squeal rung out.  
  
A toddler not more than two years old, sat secured on a wooden high chair, whole body stretched around so he could see the new visitors. His round face was half covered with splashes of milk, and a few rouge Fruit Loops found their way onto his soft brunet curls.  
  
"Rayray!!!" Tiny hands made grabby gestures from those sturdy chubby arms.  
  
The brightness of the toddler's azure blue eyes were unmistakable. As were the pouty ruby red lips.  
  
"Charles!??"  
  
~x~  
  
Next couple of chapters will be de-aged!Charles FLUFF, with a tiny hint of angst.  
  
  



	2. Two and Then Some

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the great response and interest for this story!  
> Quick-ish update, but shorty chapter, cause wanted the next part in a chapter on its own.
> 
> So Charles' speech maybe more advanced than an actual 2-ish year old's, but he's a de-aged telepathic genius yo!
> 
> EDITED: Charles' kiddie-speak decoded in end notes

"No!! Huts!!!!"

Erik's whole being shrunk a few inches as the toddler recoiled from him screaming, and pieces of metal around him hummed in discontent. Charles must be referring to the pain from the bullet wound he caused. Hank had said something about mixed and selective memory, and it seemed his former ally remembered how they last parted.

Charles' tiny chubby hands held their death grip onto Hank's soft blue fur, four dimples etched onto that tightly balled up fist where knuckles are hidden under the baby fat.

"Charles, it's Mag- It's Erik, don't you remember him?" Raven, in her blonde human form tried to coax her adopted brother from Hank's arms.

"No!! N-o wan-na! Huts!! N-no!!!!" Hot streams of tears ran down those porcelain rosy cheeks, as the toddler hiccuped and buried himself further into the safety of that dense blue coat.

"Enough, Raven. We did not come here to hurt him further." At the sound of his slightly shaken voice, Charles dared a small teary peek from the blue fuzz, as if he recognized the voice, but immediately ducked back when he saw the source of the sound.

"B-ad! Teddy, I n-o wanna bad!! No hu-ut!!" The toddler, tiny in the arms of his guardian, looked up with worried watery blue eyes, body still shaking with hitched breath, and a tiny hand nudging at his now proportionally large head covered with a mop of chocolate brown hair. His little nub of an index finger digging at his temple. A gesture so familiar, it made Erik flinch. 

"Hey, it's OK, Charlie, I won't let anyone hurt you. You want Raven to take you outside to play? Alex and Sean are outside with Scott and Ororo."

In a flash, a lopsided smile stretched across the chubby face, one eye overflowed with a large teardrop, threatening to fall. "A-nd Teddy!!"

"I'm afraid not-" Those tiny red lips begin to tremble again, "But I'll be right here, talking to Erik about...some important things."

Again, Charles seemed to react as if he recognized that name, his eyes brighten, head tilted in consideration. "E-rie?" He seemed incapable of enunciating the final consonant.

"Eerr...yes, Erik. You remember Erik?" Hank gestured at the solemn man stood stockily in the furthermost corner of the room, looking doubly ridiculous with his maroon cape and helmet still on.

"Bad!" Was what the child replied as soon as his eyes connected from soft fuzziness to cold hard steel, ducking his head right back into the curve of Hank's neck.

Raven coughed and stepped up to take her brother outside, relieved that her brother still remembered and trusted her.

"Come on, Charlie, let's go see what everyone is up to outside, and you can introduce me to your new friends." Alex had swiftly taken Scott and Ororo outside, the latest additions to this vast estate. Sean then shooed the others out as well, giving the necessary people some space to talk.

"Okie!! Sott has rey eye, and, and Lolo do bunny clous!! And-” Raven can't help but smile with great fondness at her brother, while she 'Ohh-ed' and 'Ahh-ed' at his increasingly hard to understand ramblings. 

~x~

"What the hell happened?"

Hank adjusted his glasses, and looked sheepishly at the ground. "I built a variation of a high pressure chamber that was suppose to reverse the tissue and nerve damage cause by...the ugghh.."

"The bullet, that I deflected into him...you don't need to sugar coat it."

"Right...anyway, on the day, there was a major blackout in this area, probably in the State."

Erik's mouth slowly fell open, his gray-green eyes bulging out if their sockets.

"Before the blackout, a huge pow-"

"Power surge. This happened ten days ago, late afternoon?"

"Ughh..yes. It was quite big news. The power plant still hasn't fully recovered, we are still getting blackouts every other day. It was reportedly attacked....... Shit! It was you wasn't it!??"

"We needed to overload-"

In a blue flash, Hank gripped at Erik's throat tight with a large strong hand and slammed the helmeted man into the wall. The beastly growl he emitted caused Erik's skin to twinge and his hair to rise. 

"I don't fuckin- I don't care why you needed to do it. You will, however, help us fix this." Erik had to give the man props for containing his obvious anger so quickly.

"Of course. We will do anything to assist."

Hank released his grip, leaving a white hand print, surely to turn into a dark purple bruise. The blue beast heaved a deep long sigh, and began walking to the glass doors leading outside to the vibrant green gardens where everyone else was now gathered. 

“Word of advice, unless you want the same fate as the mansion's telephone box, don't let Alex find out it was you.”

~x~

Other than Erik, Charles recognized and reacted enthusiastically to all the visitors now taking up temporary residence at the mansion.

Even Azazel got to be on Charles' good side.

The demonic looking mutant had made sure to keep a good distance away from the child, for fear of scaring him, and face the wrath of both Raven and Erik.

However, Charles was the one that found him. Azazel had been enjoying some quality time with the Professor's vast and impressive collection of music records. The rhythmic swaying of his tail must have seemed like a bright fun toy to a child with limited attention span.

Azazel let out an embarrassing yelp when he felt tiny fingers poke and grab at his sensitive tail. He looked down to see the child to be giddily entranced, so he let him continue with the harmless play. Not a minute later he sorely regretted not zapping out of the toddler's reach. Charles had grabbed with both hands and opened his mouth wide to take a hard bite at the red wagging tail.

The devil-like mutant yelped again and reflexively his mutation kicked in, teleporting them both to the main dining room where most of the others were gathered.

The toddler swayed a little, blue eyes large and bright, tiny fingers still gripped tight around his new found chew toy. Charles then let out a small cough of black sulfuric smoke. Then to everyone's dismay, especially Erik's, the child let out a loud, almost breathless snort-chuckle

"*Cggh* Again!!"

Charles pulled at Azazel's red tail and squealed with joy when the man indulged the little one by wrapping this tail securely around the podgy little waist, right above his diaper, and poofed about in and out of the mansion.

Laughter and delighted squeals could be heard throughout the house while Erik continued to try to blend into the metal railings.

~x~

Don't worry! The Erik-hating wee-Charles will end next chapter ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Huts" = Hurts
> 
> "Okie!! Sott has rey eye, and, and Lolo do bunny clous!!” = Okie!! Scott had red eyes, and, and Lolo do bunny clouds


	3. Two and Not Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the awesome feedback!! It's certainly given me some extra steam to get this out asap, though I'm still very sorry it took me this long! This chapter went on longer than I planned, and it probably should have been split into 2, but since I promised the latter part already, here's a longer chapter than what I would normally hope to update with! Hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> So, I'm writing this on the premise that the 'X-men' or 'The Brotherhood' has not yet been formed, nor do they normally refer to each other in their mutant names (other than Raven).
> 
> EDITED: Charles' kiddie-speak decoded in end notes

“No! Op looky!!” Charles sat firmly within Raven's blue skinned embrace and waved his hand at Scott's face. The tween had been blushing non-stop since Charles had wanted Raven to be in her natural form.  
  
“Wanna Rayray comfy! No looky!!” Charles had spent most of the day telling everyone to turn away, while he glued himself onto Raven's bare chest.  His miniature scowl packed quite some oomph as he sat guarding his sister's virtue and modesty, alternating with pointing a tiny demanding finger at anyone who dared to look their way, or using his small and round figure to hide Raven's nakedness.  
  
“Sott! No! Rayray! Dressy!! You get cod! No looky Sotty! Op it!!”  
  
Azazel suddenly appeared out of nowhere, bearing a thin white sheet for Raven to wrap herself in, though he doesn't manage to hide the slight disappointment upon seeing her more covered.  
  
“Ank you, Azza!” Charles gave Azazel a big blinding smile that immediately turned into a stern pout.  
  
“You no looky at Rayray atter bed time too!” The toddler made sharp biting motions with his bitty mouth, threatening what was in store for his tail if Azazel made any moves on Raven under this roof.  
  
Still turned away, Alex quickly caught himself from releasing an amused snort. He was still far from comfortable with the temporary truce called with the guests at the mansion, but Charles and his watery eyes and quivering pout had given him little choice.  
  
He had only begrudgingly agreed to allow them to stay because Hank had explained how Charles' predicament would be resolved faster if Erik and Azazel were to help, and Raven, having grown up with Charles in the mansion, is well suited to care for him. Angel and Janos had initially stayed more out of amusement and for the most part, they kept clear of each other's way, allowing Alex to pretend they weren't there. More importantly, Charles had grown into a habit of needing to give every single one of them a 'muah nighty' before he is willing to be put to bed for the night.  
  
Sean seemed to have accepted it without much question, doing his utmost to keep the mansion running normally, and continuing with Charles' plans for the school. When Charles recovers, Alex hopes he will remember how much, out of everyone, Sean has stepped up and taken responsibility.  
  
For the first few days of their abrupt arrival, Alex had had to use every nerve within him to keep his rage contained while the children were around, but one day he could hold it no longer. It was after a morning of training with Scott outside, taking good advantage of the last days of the warmer weather, they walked into the dining room to see Charles snoozing in the arms of a blonde Raven, while she laughed and gossiped with Angel, who in turn was braiding Ororo's hair.  
  
The sight made Alex's blood boil. He firmly believed they had no right to be acting like they belonged here, like they were one big happy family. Not even Raven.  
  
 _“You have got to be fucking kidding me! How can you expect to just waltz right back into this home, right back into his life!? After leaving him like that? After finding out he was fucking paralyzed!”_  
  
His harsh whisper sounded more like a hiss, but Alex would rather not the children hear this. He had asked Scott to look after Charles and Ororo for a moment, and demanded a private word with Raven away from the dining room.  
  
“He is still my brother, and this was my home for a good part of my life! I have every right to be here for him when he needs me!”  
  
 _“Then where the fuck were you for the last 15 months!? Where were you the month he spent in hospital? Where were you when they told him the paralysis was permanent!? Where the fucking-heck were you when he had to relearn how to do shit simple things as getting out of the fucking bed!?”_  
  
“Don't you dare talk to me like that! I don't answer to you nor do I need to explain myself to you. I was in constant contact with Charles. I asked him time and time again whether I should come back to care for him. He said no! He-”  
  
“Are you fucking stupid!? You of all people should know his martyr complex! You should have came back no matter what he told you! Not even a visit!?”  
  
“We were busy trying to save the lives of others like us!”  
  
“Yeah? Too fucking busy that you don't even have the time to give one shit about the man who saved yours.”  
  
The vibrant blue of Raven's skin took on an almost purple tinge. She was shaking and shaken. The truth was she had no good explanation for why she hadn't visited Charles since parting with him that day on the beach. Erik had asked Azazel to also teleport Charles and the other mutants left stranded on the beach to a hospital, but Azazel said Charles insisted, and possibly manipulated him to take them all, including Moira, back to Westchester.  
  
Charles had since kept up frequent telepathic contact with her, just to make sure she was well and vice versa, and her resolve to stay with Erik and his cause had wavered a bit for the first few weeks, when she wholeheartedly missed her brother. She had a feeling Charles wasn't being completely forthcoming about the extent of his injury from the bullet wound, and she only got confirmation about it from Hank a few days ago. Deep down, perhaps she felt too ashamed to see Charles again until they had accomplished something to show him that her chosen ideals were the right choice.  
  
“Alex..” Scott, looking more than a little pale, stood at the doorway, unwilling to step any closer. Immediately, Alex buried his fury, and if Raven hadn't been so angry at him, she would have thought the sudden softness in Alex's expression looked good on him.    
  
“Hey Scotty, what's wrong?”  
  
“It's Charles... He started crying when.... I don't think he likes it when you argue... and nor does Ro..” They had been so preoccupied with their argument, they hadn't heard Charles' bawling in the other room, behind the thick antique wooden doors.  
  
Raven moved swiftly back into the dining room and proceeded to try to calm her brother down, holding him securely in her arms and bouncing him up and down, while saying soothing nothings into his ear. This of course ticked Alex off further. He stormed in, and snatched the sobbing Charles away.  
  
“No!!!! Aley!! Op!!” His crying got louder, face scrunched and red. With one hand gripped tightly at Alex's shirt, Charles used his other hand to reach for Raven, bringing the two to stand face to face.  
  
“'A-ami-ly.... No wan-na ami-ly bye bye..”  
  
A tidal wave of guilt washed over Alex. He hadn't considered it like that at all. To think, after all that Charles had done to reunite him with Scott, he had been trying to break up what family Charles felt he had.  
  
Ororo came up and tentatively reached up to hold Alex's free hand. “Please, Alex... It's hard enough not telling Charlie about his parents...”  
  
After that, Alex swallowed down whatever frustration he felt for this arrangement, and did everything in his power to allow Charles to have this small bit innocence and peace for however long it may last.  
  
~x~  
  
"Wait, how is everyone else busy today?" Sean looked incredulously at each person in the room.  
  
"I could stay."  
  
"No Hank, you've worked months on securing this meeting, and with Charles unable to go now, you can't cancel. Alex? What's happening with you?"  
  
"I'm meeting that mutant downtown. Plus I'm taking Scott and Ro to the dentist, it will be a few hours, but I don't think they'll let us reschedule a fourth time."  
  
And so it was, that everyone was busy with something for the afternoon. Sean was also set to meet a fellow mutant, terrified and in hiding a few hours drive away. Raven had a small re-con mission that required her abilities. Angel had to go into 'work' and establish contact with a possible anti-mutant group. Azazel was scheduled to be in Russia to help Emma for a few days. Finally, Janos was scheduled to meet one or two mutants outside the country, which would mean he returns when Azazel returns.  
  
They all turned and looked at the gloriously oblivious toddler playing on the sofa with his sock bunny toy, and blabbering at whoever is the closest to him, today being Janos, who seemed to be quite charmed by it.  
  
Then simultaneously, they all turn to look at the only person free to look after Charles today.  
  
Erik.  
  
It was uncanny how unsettled he looked even under that metal helmet.  
  
He has been sulking around the mansion for few weeks, since their arrival. His efforts to stay hidden from Charles' view but still within close range, made him look and feel like a creeper in the shadows. The helmet doesn't help, though at least he's no longer wearing the cape and streamlined Santa suit.  
  
"I'll stay. I can tell them-" Angel was cut off by a raised hand from Erik.  
  
"It will be fine. It is only a few hours. I have looked after children before." However, his expression said it was going to be anything but fine.  
  
It has become the norm to see Charles react positively to Erik's voice, but the second those too large eyes land on the source, his demeanor takes an abrupt turn. Now, instead of fear, the toddler packs on a glare that was deadlier than Scott's red optic blasts. The worst part was Charles would sit purposefully with his back and round diaper clad buttocks facing Erik, and scowl painfully indirectly at him from a profile view.  
  
"Charlie! Who wants lunch?" Always eager to diffuse any tension, Sean jumps in to distract the seething toddler, faint still-developing brows scrunched in distaste, lips squished tight together. Good thing, Charles was easily distracted, especially by food or toys or playtime or anything other than Erik.  
  
"Me!! Can has oney bed and juujuu, pooweez?"  
  
"Alright, buddy! Wanna pour the honey on the bread yourself?"  
  
"Yeah!!!" Charles clung to Sean like a koala, and bobbed his head in excited agreement. "Awn elp daw smiley, purdy peeeez?"  
  
“Sure, little man!”  
  
“Yay!! Lolo has big big smily! She may big *whoosh* likey Jano!!” Charles squeezed together his petite mouth and made an impressive imitation of the sound of wind.  “And and Aley has two bed! He likey bed!!”  
  
~x~  
  
"Erik, I've tucked him in for his afternoon nap. When he wakes up, he'll want his bunny, and a drink, preferably water, but I'm letting you slide with some juice..." Sean placed a couple of mini juice boxes on the bench.  
  
"He's really into his apple juujuus right now, but we've run out, so orange will have to do. There's some apples in the fridge if he gets fussy. I should be back by dinner time, and I'm sure Alex will have the kids back by then too. If he gets really bad, just read him Peter Rabbit through the wall or something. And-"  
  
"Sean. Charles will be fine. Go."  
  
Unfortunately, Charles wasn't the one Sean was worried about.  
  
~x~  
  
Erik felt a small sense of serenity as he watched, from just outside the room, Charles' tiny figure sound asleep in his bed, fortressed with pillows just in case. His small podgy limbs splayed about with fingers and toes all fisted comfortably tight, one hand grabbed tightly onto his favorite comforter, a fuzzy pale green blanket that Erik was sure he used when he last stayed at the mansion.  
  
Charles' head is tilted towards Erik, a rare occurrence, and his cherry colored lips have parted, the clear plastic pacifier fallen out of his mouth, leaving a large thick trail of drool down the side of his mouth.  
  
After a moment, Charles's brow's twitched in agitation, perhaps due to a dream. One chubby leg kicked about, and the tiny arm connected to the hand holding onto the comforter jerked away, pulling the fuzzy blanket off him, leaving the sleeping toddler without cover over his bare porcelain chest.  
  
Immediately, Erik moved to readjust the comforter, making sure Charles' soft chest, rising and falling rhythmically, was tucked in securely and comfortably. Unfortunately, it was the wrong move, as Charles seemed to have sensed his proximity, and even in his sleep his dainty features came together to form the grimace Erik is all to familiar with by now. A few whimpers are emitted before Charles stretches his plump limbs and reaches to rub his eyes, still unwilling to open.  
  
Erik quickly returned to the shadows just before the child finished rubbing his eyes awake. Sitting up in the middle of the the large king sized bed, surrounded by piles of pillows, Charles scratched his neck and looked around the room confused, still with a scowl on his face. Then the barely awake toddler tilted his head as if in waiting. After a minute of silence, he scrunched his face together, and a little grunt escaped his mouth. It looked and sounded as if he was pushing...  
  
 _Scheiße!_ Erik was in panic mode. Sean had said he'd changed Charles' diaper before putting him to sleep, and he assured him it would hold up till they returned by dinner time. He didn't even know where the diapers were kept. In his consternation, he nearly missed the movement of Charles tiny hand.  
  
Charles continued making little grunting noises of intense concentration, but now he has his tiny index finger pointed at his temple. He was using his telepathy.  
  
“Awn?” His voice was small and unsure. His eyes growing larger and watery as silence greeted him.  
  
“...Teddy!? Huuh huh..Aley!??” By the time he got to Raven's name, Charles was balling his eyes out, too scared to move from his pillowed fortress, one hand still pointed at his temple, while the other held onto his comforter. Erik had no other option but to reveal himself.  
  
“Charles. Hey, little maus, you're not alone. I'm right here.” He had not intended it, but he hoped his words would spark some better memories of him for the terrified child. It didn't. Charles' worried gaze snapped onto the dark figure in the corner, still wearing his ridiculous maroon helmet with what looked like mini antlers. Even under the dimming light of dusk, his azure eyes were bright and vibrant, sadly, they were also filled with tears and apprehension.  
  
“Hut!! No! Ead huts!! No!! Go way!!”  
  
Erik sighed and decided to go fetch the juice box and fruit and leave it by Charles side. As he is about to leave the room, Charles whimpered loudly.  
  
“Op! N-no wanna bye bye..” The little boy looked so conflicted, both scared to be alone and yet terrified of the man in the room with him.  
  
“Charles... no, not at all. I'm here for you-” Erik takes a step towards Charles, only to have the toddler recoil in fright, again his petite hands reached up to clasp at his head.  
  
“H-hut! He-head hutty! Pooweez...no wanna hutty!”  
  
Finally, it all made sense. How could he have been so stupid for so long. Without further thought, Erik slipped the helmet off and threw it to the ground. The startled child went stock still, his only movements were the hiccups he was unable to control. Slowly, Charles' expression scrunched again, and he burst into tears.  
  
“...E-Erie? Erie!!!” Charles practically jumped off the bed into Erik's welcoming arms. “Erie!! Mi-ss you!! Miss m-iss you, Erie!!”  
  
“I'm so sorry, Charles. I'm right here... Ssshhhh... I'm right here with you.”  
  
Clung tightly within Erik's embrace, Charles rubs his face over his shirt, wiping tears and snot on his black turtle neck. At one angle, Charles spots the helmet on the ground.  
  
“Ba-ad! Erie... bad! H-ut!”  
  
His tiny podgy finger points accusingly at the offending helmet, while he looked imploringly up at Erik. With a flick of his wrist, Erik has the helmet fly out of the room, far away from the small telepath. Charles looks at him with complete awe and adoration, tears still running how his rosy cheeks, and his little nostrils obstructed with watery discharge.  
  
“Oh little maus, let's clean you up and get some juice in you.”  
  
Charles nods his head enthusiastically, immediately forgetting his tears. “J-uujuu!? I l-ikey juu-juu! Erie h-has juujuu too!”  
  
The toddler doesn't stop looking adoringly at Erik, he even refused to get his whole face wiped clean, for fear Erik might disappear if he doesn't keep an eye on him. He uses his puny hands to reach up and map Erik's face, as if he can't quite believe he is real. The most adorable part was when Erik smiles back down at him, the toddler would shy away for a few seconds, hiding his face into the man's neck.  
  
As they made their way to the kitchen, Charles sat contently silent in his strong arms, just smiling and studying him, at times ducking away when he gets shy again. Erik opens an orange juice box, and poured the contents into a infant friendly bottle, while Charles started to jump about in his arms and eagerly reached to receive the bottle, mouth already forming an 'O' in anticipation of the bottle's spout.  
  
The second the juice hits Charles' tongue however, the toddler chokes a bit, and his features tighten together, while his lips pucker outwards, like how one would after sucking on a lemon.  
  
“You don't like orange juice?” Erik couldn't help but chuckle fondly at Charles vast array of expressions. As he reached to grab the bottle from Charles, the toddler huddles at it tighter, unwilling to let go.  
  
“No! I wanna juujuu! No wanna wa'er.”  
  
“How about I cut you some slices of apple instead?”  
  
At the mention of apples, Charles eyes light up again, and he instantly forgets about the bottle being sneaked away from his grasp.  
  
“Apple!! I likey apple!!”  
  
Erik uses his powers to open the fridge, and selects a nice red apple to be washed. Charles is elated to see his powers at work, and he squeals and claps at Erik's display. Much to Charles' further delight, Erik has a knife float out of its drawer and cut the apple by itself.  
  
“Here you go, maus.”  
  
“Ank you, Erie!” Charles shyly accepts and grabs the piece of fruit and proceeds his nibbling, dripping a bit of its juice down his chin and hands. After returning to earnestly look at Erik, the toddler stops eating suddenly, and offers Erik his partly eaten snack.  
  
“Erie has apple! Om om! Apple good Erie!”  
  
Erik indulges the child, and takes a bite out of the piece offered to him. Charles makes a satisfied hum then his small body shivers, and a blissful expression runs across his now shy face.  
  
“..oopy..”  
  
~x~  
  
The drive up the mansion's driveway was tormenting long for Alex. His mind flashed gory images of the worst scenarios of what could have happened in their absence. Scott and Ororo were equally anxious.  
  
When they finally opened the front door, the mansion was eerily silent and ominous.  
  
“Charles!? We're home!”  
  
The gloomy silence is soon broken by a loud squeal and the pitter patter of small bare feet running across the wooden floor.  
  
“Aley! Sott!! Lolo!!! Ome!”  
  
A butt naked Charles ran up to greet them, giddy and jumping about in excitement.  
  
“Erie ome! Erie ome!!”  
  
Not a moment later, Erik scrambles out from the direction of Charles bedroom and bathroom, holding a bottle of baby powder in one hand and a clean diaper in the other. His hair was messed up and half his face and black top was covered with white powder.  
  
Alex quirked an eyebrow, and gave Erik an approving nod. He'll laugh at his helmet tan line after they get Charles changed and dressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Op looky = Stop looking
> 
> cod = cold
> 
> Ank you = Thank you
> 
> atter bed time = after bed time
> 
> A-ami-ly = Family
> 
> oney bed and juujuu, pooweez = Honey bread and juice, please
> 
> Awn elp daw smiley, purdy peeeez = Sean help draw smiley, pretty please
> 
> Ead huts = Head hurts
> 
> hutty = Hurting
> 
> wa'er = Water
> 
> oopy = oopsy
> 
> Ome = Home


	4. Two and Beyond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback and alerts/favs/kudos! You guys are awesome, and believe me when I say, you guys are the super powered fuel behind my ficcing stamina!  
> I tried to aim for a mid-week update, and I'm so terribly sorry this is so late, but it is another longer chapter, so hope you'll all forgive the slowness :) 
> 
> Special thanks:
> 
> So, the lovely Lunatic's Lament (FF) mentioned Loki, and being quite in love with the Hiddles at the moment, I couldn't help myself but to add him in, sort of ;)
> 
> Also, the ever fabulous 779-2442-874-78-SOS (FF) gave me loads of fun ideas, and the park scene is dedicated to you! (it's not exactly what you suggested, but hope you like it!)
> 
> More plot setting than fluff today~  
> Do feel free to make any requests, I'll try my best to get them all in!
> 
> EDITED: Charles' kiddie-speak decoded in end notes

It took Sean a good ten minutes to stop laughing. It was contagious laughing too. The two tweens hid by the couch and carried on their giggling, still too intimidated by Erik's brooding presence to directly laugh at his 'M' toned face. Even the little girl, Jean, who arrived back with a hand clutched tightly at Sean's jeans, looking rather underfed and lost, finally flashed a small genuine smile when Scott join in the light teasing with his brother.  
  
And then there was Charles.  
  
The gleeful toddler, clung to Erik tightly, like a baby primate would its mother, and enthusiastically joined in with his own breathless snort-like chuckles, clearly misunderstanding the reason behind everyone's amusement.  
  
Erik felt naked. Like how someone who wore a watch on their wrist everyday would feel if they had neglected to wear their watch. That sudden lightness was bordering on unbearable.   
  
The realization of just how comfortable he had come to be with a piece of technology designed by humans to block a mutant's power caused spikes of shame to piece through his body and mind. He wanted to throw up at his own sick hypocrisy. In as many ways as it has given him strength, the helmet was at the same time, a sort of downfall for Erik. It had cut him deeply that the only man he truly considered an equal should refuse to see his logic. But he was well aware it was a double edged knife that he himself stabbed into Charles the moment he placed the helmet on.  
  
He knew he had been entirely unreasonable and paranoid for keeping the helmet on in the mansion, when the only use it had was against an infant telepath. Erik wanted to think he was protecting Charles from the pain and the anger within him, because no child should pick up the memories buried within his head. But the truth was he didn't think. He had forgotten how to live life without the helmet. He had forgotten he had the helmet on.  
  
When Erik found out Jean was also a telepath, he instinctively called for the helmet that had been flung into his room.   
  
“Erie!”   
  
Charles smiled earnestly up at the now nervous man holding him. A tiny grabby hand reached up to his dark auburn hair, and a delicate index finger pointed at his temple. Erik can't help but feel a cold sweat building..  
  
 _Snap out of it Erik! Unsettled by children! You're truly pathetic!_  
  
“Jea can do mine tings too! ! Jea likey Charlie! Jea amily! !”   
  
The pure joy radiating from the child before him dissolved all Erik's anxiety, and at the same time reminded him what they were all fighting for.   
  
~x~  
  
“-and Erie may bad shiny go way and no ead hurty more- *Aaaah.. om*.”   
  
Charles had refused to leave Erik's embrace to sit in his high chair during dinner, and was currently attached comfortably on Erik's lap while the man used his powers to feed him small spoonfuls of macaroni covered in homemade tomato sauce. Meanwhile, Erik's hands were too busy holding onto the bumbling toddler and wiping up half eaten macaronis that flew out of the infant's mouth while he animatedly recounted Erik's 'return' to the mansion, making him sound akin to a knight in shining armor.   
  
Every other minute, Charles would randomly stop his talking, then tilt his head all the way back to the point where his little round head hits Erik's chest, and the toddler would emit cooing noises while looking lovingly up at his much missed friend. When Erik tries to return the affection, Charles would squeal and duck his head away in shyness, then resume his story, which sounded increasingly like a mixture of the fairy tales Raven had been reading him before bedtime.   
  
Erik and Jean's presence was a perfectly timed blessing, leaving Charles too preoccupied to notice how few of them were at the dinner table that night. Under normal circumstances, if anyone were to miss dinner, tears would run down Charles' puffed up reddened cheeks, while his bitty lips would at the same time form a deep pout and open ever so slowly up to receive food, forcing anyone who had to endure a meal with a heartbroken Charles to forbid anyone from missing a dinner again. With any luck, they would prove enough distraction to last until the others return.  
  
Everyone was expected to be back sometime between later that night or the next week. Sean, who had told Erik he would be back before dinner, had called in earlier to say his meeting had been a failure, but he may have caught wind of another mutant near by, and will be back slightly later than he had planned.   
  
Alex had not been too surprised with Sean's news, his own meeting had garnered a no show. Their recruiting had more or less come to a halt since Charles' accident. It proved near impossible to locate other mutants without Charles' telepathy, and they are now mostly just continuing contact with a handful of mutants Charles had already established contact.   
  
Jean was one of those mutants, apparently one of the many Charles was able to locate when he first used Cerebro at the now destroyed CIA base. Before Charles' accident, he had been telepathically communicating with Jean for some months, keeping her company and assuring her that the abuse and neglect would stop, that a better life awaited her anytime she was ready to leave.  
  
The girl with the rich fiery hair had looked dumbfounded when her eyes landed upon the ecstatic infant.   
  
“M-Mr. Xavier?”  
  
The tall and seriously looking man, with a heart shaped tan on his face, looked surprised and asked how Jean knew.  
  
“H-his mind... it feels.. like him... only happier. Much happier than before, even more happier than when he first spoke in my mind.”  
  
She later explained how she had been searching for Charles for weeks, almost giving up hope, believing Charles had abandoned her too. When, by chance, she felt a tendril of a familiar presence in Sean's mind, she reached out to him, wishing to take up Charles' offer.   
  
~x~  
  
When Azazel arrived back with Janos in tow a week later, he also brought a highly bemused Emma Frost, relishing in the fact her telepathic equal, or possibly superior, had been reduced to a bundle of gooey helplessness, while her supposed leader was pressed well beneath a tiny stubby finger. Without the helmet, no less.   
  
The second she saw the mentally defenseless infant, she considered doing them all a favor and altering his mind to loathe humans, and end this futile division among their kind. The only thing stopping her was the thunderous look on man the toddler was wound like an octopus on. A look that threatened something worse than death of she were to trespass into that delicate mind, but it also proved one vital point, that had her smirking even further.  
  
The same idea had already crossed his mind.   
  
Even without using her telepathy, she had no doubt the man before her had decided to that this as an opportunity to influence the child to his advantage. A quick glance at her supposed foes and the three other new faces, so young and naive. Perhaps they will be able to nurture more than one child out this incident.  
  
From out of nowhere, a slither of a foreign presence snaked its way into the outer perimeter of Emma's conscience. She cast an uncertain glance at the infant held securely by her strongest ally, or more accurately, her strongest pawn. But it was not Xavier. The mental presence felt too different, there was a fieriness to it that she had never encountered before. It was nearly a total contrast to her own blisteringly cold presence, and it lacked all the soothing calmness of Xavier's conscience.   
  
Emma snapped her icy stare to the left, and found a small young girl around ten years of age, a few years younger than the other two children. So young and so much undeveloped potential.   
  
_This was going to fun._   
  
“Foss! Come has dindin?”  
  
The immaculately dressed woman had to admit, the infant was horrendously adorable.  
  
“Why thank you, sugar. I think I will be staying around well after dinner.”  
  
~x~  
  
“Erie! Has bat time now?” Charles has recently become addicted to having Erik give him a bath. He'd ask for one every other hour, more so than using his fluttering eyes to ask for some mini muffins.  
  
The others don't really know what goes on during their little bath time bonding, but after every session, Charles exits the bathroom pristine, dry, warm and a few blinks away from dozing off, while Erik came away looking soaked, wrecked and exhausted, though always with a fond look in his eyes.  
  
“I'll give you a bath right after we come back, alright maus?”  
  
“Come back? Park! Can has sing? Erie pu high?”  
  
“No, it's too dark to go to the park today, I'll take you tomorrow. Hank, Azazel and I need to take care of some business. We will be home very shortly.”  
  
Charles looked aghast at the man holding him and considered him for a while. Then a big excited smile spread across his little round face, two dimples forming just under the apple of his cheeks.   
  
“Car! Can sit fron with you?”  
  
“No, maus. You stay here, and we'll be back before you know it.”  
  
A quick frown moved through Charles' brows, before he looked wide eyed again, and asked with fervor, “Can bings moofins and juujuu, pooweeeez?”  
  
“Err...yes, you can ask Sean for a muffin and some juice. We will be right back, yes?”  
  
“Yeah! !”  
  
Erik looked dubiously at the elated infant, but nonetheless handed him over to Sean's awaiting embrace. As he tries to step away, Charles doesn't loosen his tight grip on Erik's shirt.   
  
“Erie come has moofin!”  
  
Charles used his other hand and clutched at Erik's ear, pulling him closer, towards the direction of the kitchen. Reluctantly, Erik had to peel of Charles' chubby grabby hands, and gave each of them a small kiss and rubbing soft circles in apology.  
  
“I'm sorry, my little maus. We must get going. We'll be right back, OK?”  
  
Confusion once again danced across the toddler's face, but in a flash Charles kicked his legs in delight and lifted his plump arms up at Erik, indicating his wishes to be back within Erik's arms. Again, Sean was quick with his diversions.   
  
“Charlie, let's go see what Janos is making in the kitchen!”  
  
Always eager to watch someone moving about and making things, Charles large eyes light up, and he claps and burbles in assent. With Charles' attention momentarily focused elsewhere, Erik silently held his breath and backed away, towards the front door where Hank and Azazel were already gathered.  
  
They had all been extremely careful with using the 'B' word. Charles does not do the 'B' word. The last time someone used the 'B' word carelessly, by accident when rushing out the door, Charles had become so distressed, he caused everyone left in the mansion to have searing migraines. Nothing could calm him down, not even Erik dangling a chocolate chip and banana muffin. In the end, Azazel had to teleport back those who had left to carry out further re-con or run errands, and Jean had to try to mentally soothe him along side Erik for the rest of the day.   
  
“Let's go.”  
  
The last thing the three men hear before they are transported to the power plant, was Charles' loud and alarmed shriek for Erik.   
  
It would have been a lot easier to do this in the middle of the night when Charles was asleep, however, after a week of observation, they realized security had been stepped up, especially during the night, thus they had decided the best time to take action was the afternoon shift change.  
  
“I hope you have enough strength to get the reactors fixed within five minutes. Any longer, and Charles might send the others into a coma. Or worse, Emma has to step in.”  
  
Both Hank and Azazel looked paler than their normal vibrant hues of blue or red. They had all learned by now just how much Charles was still in charge of the mansion.  
  
~x~  
  
It took them a lot longer fix the reactor than anticipated, mostly because Azazel had needed to keep zapping them away to remain unseen by the employees stationed at the plant. When they finally returned to the mansion, some two hours after they left, things seemed surprisingly calm and tranquil.   
  
Erik felt a congregation of iron molecules gathered in the main living room, where the television was placed. They walked into a blissfully picturesque scene of a fully mismatch family, lounging on the couches, watching the blinking screen of the television, or reading.   
  
Charles, with reddened puffy eyes, was sat between Scott and Jean, with Ororo standing in front of them, using her powers to make a scattering of sparkly confetti dance in midair, and Angel relaxing in the middle of that whirlwind. The children watch spellbound, their heads following in perfect unison the graceful flow of the dance.   
  
Jean was the first to acknowledge their presence, and pointed at them for Charles.  
  
“Charlie, look! It's Erik, Teddy and Azza!”  
  
The toddler's face expanded and lit up, only to suddenly scrunch into a scowl then he buried his head behind Scott's back. Erik thought it adorable that Charles was acting all shy again, but when he neared them, and the boy yelped and hid further away, refusing to be held in Erik's arms.  
  
Charles later refused to sit on Erik's lap during dinner, and even refused his offer of a nice long bath with lots of bubbles and squeaky toys, although not without faltering somewhat. He even refused to give Erik a 'muah nighty', even though he gave them to Hank and Azazel.  
  
When Erik retired to his room for the night, exhausted both physically and emotionally, he forced himself to decide that this was for the better. Charles needed to become more independent of him, and it allowed him to refocus on the larger issues at hand. Unfortunately, he couldn't get over the tight pang in his chest and the bitter, sour taste in his mouth.   
  
“E-rie?”  
  
As Erik was changing, a tiny muffled, and uncertain voice called for him from outside his room. Opening the door revealed Charles, minuscule and alone, sitting at the foot of the door in his teddy bear patterned pajamas, looking up with apprehension.   
  
“Charles? What are you doing still up? How did you get out of bed? Is something wrong?”  
  
Erik immediately lifted him up to his chest, making sure the small child had not caught a chill. Charles' eyes begin to water as they looked earnestly into Erik's gray-green eyes.   
  
“Erie... I sorry...”  
  
Charles used his tiny soft hands to touch Erik's forehead, smoothing out those worried lines. Then he pointed an index finger out, and looked at Erik for permission. A gentle smile spread across Erik's face, before he took that petit hand into his own, and pressed Charles' index finger to his temple.  
  
A trickle of warmth and comfort slowly flooded into his subconscious. In his mind, Erik sees a faint, blurry image of the memory he once shared with Charles. His most treasured memory of his mother. But the image wasn't of his mother, but of him and an infant Charles. He was expressing to Erik how much he meant to him, and at the same time, how much he feared losing him. How much it pained him to lose him before.   
  
Erik opened his eyes, and held Charles so their their foreheads touched, eyes locked.  
  
“I'm so sorry Charles. You've never lost me. I will always be with you, even when I am away.”  
  
He brushed the curls out of Charles' considering eyes, and gave him a soft kiss on the child's forehead.   
  
“Let's get you to bed.”  
  
“Can sleepy with you?”  
  
Erik gave him a partly reprimanding look, but mostly he couldn't hold back his fond chuckling.  
  
“Alright, maus, but just for tonight.”  
  
The mischievous grin on Charles' face said otherwise.   
  
~x~  
  
As promised, Erik took Charles to a park nearby the next day, after a hearty breakfast.  
  
It was a beautifully warm early autumn day, with the leaves just beginning to blush, coloring the landscape with a myriad of lush greens, oranges and reds. The nannies were out in full force, this being an extremely high class area and all, heaven forbid if the mothers were forced to lift their expensively manicured fingers.   
  
Well before they reached the park's perimeter, Erik felt dozens of sets of eyes fixated hungrily upon him. He felt supremely out of place and out of his element. Not that he wasn't slightly flattered by the ogling, but so many, all at the same time was quite unnerving.  
  
No sooner did Erik take a step on to the perfectly kept grass, cool and with a hint of moisture left from the morning frost, a young woman with soft curves and a kind gentle face pushed a classic beige stroller over their direction, smiling sweetly as she attempted to make Erik's acquaintance. Before she could get a word out, Charles pointed a tiny finger at her and exclaimed loudly.  
  
"'lut!"  
  
Both Erik and the woman looked incredulously at the bubbly infant. Even when he was crying his eyes out, face red and wrinkled, snot dribbling down to his chin, his was still a face of the most innocent of angels. There was just to way he has just said what they thought he just said.  
  
As if to purely middle finger them, Charles pointed at the woman, and with his brightest smile, exclaimed again.  
  
"'lut!!"  
  
The woman looked both bewildered and disgusted at Erik, making a quick retreat to the other side of the park.  
  
"Charles! That's a bad word! You must not say that!" Erik didn't know whether this was one of those inopportune selective memory moments, or if he's going to have to everyone at the mansion to stop with the bad influences.  
  
Charles looked at once shocked and scared, large worried eyes instantly watering.  
  
"Hey... it's not your fault, maus. Just, just don't use that word anymore, okay?”  
  
When they get back to the mansion, he was going to find out who had been feeding Charles with this filth, starting with Frost. The child in his arms gave him a big nod, and leaned towards the playground area.   
  
“Kay! Erie, can go sing now?”  
  
Without further delay, Erik takes them to the swings, thankful it was not occupied. It was a set of three swings, one of them a toddler swing with secure seating. Charles, ecstatic and jumpy, seemed ready to fly out of Erik's arms.  
  
“Pu high! Can pu high pooweez? ?”  
  
“Sure, my little mau-”  
  
Erik had not even set Charles into the swing yet, when an overzealous and perky blonde walked a little boy with squeaking shoes over to the swings beside them.  
  
“Hi! This is Timmy, and who is adorable little boy? I'm Stacy, by the way. What's your nam-”   
  
“Beech!”  
  
Erik nearly dropped Charles from the shock. Charles remained utterly oblivious, hands clapping and repeated shouting out the profanity. The woman immediately did a U-turn and quickly walked the confused boy away, his shoes squeaking away rapidly.   
  
“Charles! Where are you hearing these words? That's a bad bad word too! Promise me you won't say it again.”  
  
Charles hunched his little shoulder, and looked abashed. But the little sparkle within his azure eyes cannot be hidden, and a lopsided smirk slowly forms on his 'angelic' face. Let it be a lesson that Charles Xavier should never be underestimated, and his bonding time with Erik should not be disturbed.   
  
“Oh! You little monster maus! Come on, let's get you on the swing.”  
  
After a long while of indulging Charles requests to be pushed higher, the giddy infant suddenly shouted with all his might.  
  
“Erie! Go uck yousel! !”   
  
The toddler squawked excitedly within the seat of the swing, head and neck stretched towards somewhere outside the park.  
  
“Erie, Erie! ! Go uck yousel! There! !”  
  
The whole park was looking at the crazed, potty mouthed infant, scandalized as well as traumatized, and Erik decided it was high time to disappear and find another park, preferably in a different zip code. Erik took Charles towards the car, but the child had other ideas, and pull him in a different direction, where a large mover's truck was parked. Stood next to the parked truck was the scruffy man with unruly side burns, they had once tried to recruit, only to be rebuffed with a snide remark.  
  
“Go uck yousel! Ome! !”  
  
“You need to tell your kid to wash out his mouth, bub... Have I seen you somewhere before?”  
  
~x~  
  
"I've fixed and recalibrated the settings, and even if you have the power plant stabilized, I don't recommend aging Charles back in one go."  
  
Hank fiddles with a few more switches and looked again through a large pile of notes.  
  
"Why not? Is it dangerous?" Erik has Charles snuggled in one arm, the most common sight around the mansion now. Charles was busy talking to Erik or everybody, it's hard to tell, today's topic seems to be his sock bunny, now named Loki after Raven read him a kiddy-version of some Norse mythology.   
  
"- and Oki say can has lolly before dindin, good for dindin-"  
  
"Highly. Charles' body already took a huge toll during the mishap. I don't want to risk anything, unnecessarily."  
  
"-Oki say has buzzer Tor. Can has bunny Tor? Big one, ellow one! Big ears and Tor fly-"  
  
"Then how do you suggest we proceed? A year at time?"  
  
"Something along those lines. I thought it would be safest to treat Charles-"  
  
"Tweat! ! Can has cookie! ?"  
  
"Yes, maus, in a minute. Please, continue Hank."  
  
"Err.. It's safest to trea- give him a minute or less at minimum power, at the most weekly. My tests and calculations indicate it should age him about a year or so every time."  
  
In their intense discussion and planning, the two men do not notice the toddler go quiet, ruby lips trembling.  
  
"So, around thirty weeks, and the paraly- Mmmm! !"  
  
All of a sudden Charles had reached up to Erik's mouth and squeezed it shut with his little fingers.  
  
"Op noring me! ! No li'en to me! Can has cookie now! ?" Charles put on his charms and blinked his large blue eyes. They still haven't figured out when or how he picked that behavior up, but it has proved to be a most powerful weapon.  
  
"Okay my little maus, very soon! But, right now Hank and I are discussing how best to help you."  
  
"Elp?" The child tilts his head in question, a finger pointed at his own little chest.  
  
"Yes, Charles. If you can be a good boy and sit on that chair for a few minutes, you can have a chocolate chunk cookie."  
  
Charles' bright eyes widen in delight and excitement at Hank's promise of his current favorite treat.  
  
"I a good boy! ! Erie come! !" Charles grabs onto the collar of Erik's polo, and used his weight to lead Erik into the camber.  
  
Erik sets Charles down on the chair in the middle of the pressure chamber, a small enclosed space, sort of like a miniature version of Cerebro. It felt eerie just walking into this space, and Erik's hands trembled as he lets go of Charles reluctantly. They had wrapped Charles only in a thin cotton sheet, in case his clothing become too small during the process.   
  
"Can you sit on the chair by yourself, maus? Hank and I will be right here, outside. It will be over very soon."  
  
He lets go of Charles, the release causing sudden lack of warmth, startling both himself and the toddler. Charles lifts his soft chunky arms up, indicating for Erik to pick him up again. As much as it pains him to do so, Erik ignores the infant's gestures, and quickly dashes out of the chamber, wanting this to be over as soon as possible.   
  
"E-erie? Teddy! ? No! ! No bye bye! ! No! ! ! Erie! ! ERIE! ! Elp! ! !"   
  
Each of Charles' panicked pleas and screams was a burning needle to Erik's heart. With the door to the chamber now shut and locked, Charles voices becomes muffled, but no less desperate. Hank also looked heartbroken, his blue skin took on a gray tinge as he worked with speed to get the machine started.   
  
“Forty five seconds, starting...now.”  
  
Erik closed his eyes and focused completely blocking out those muffled screams, reigning in his urge to dissipate that steel door.   
  
After what seemed like far too long, a loud timer beeped a couple of times, and the lock on the sealed door automatically released itself with a loud metallic click.  
  
It was frighteningly silent. Erik could hear his thundering heat beat echoing within his chest.   
  
“C-Charles? Are you alright, maus?”  
  
The infant looked physically bigger than two minutes ago, and his hair slightly more shaggier, and curlier. He looked bewilderingly at the two adults hovering at the small door way. Those small features did not come together to form his usual sunny smile. Those little arms did not reach out for Erik to lift him up. His face remained shocked, and even worse, Charles looked like he did not recognize the men before him.   
  
~x~  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Jea can do mine tings too!! Jea likey Charlie! Jea amily!!" = Jean can do mind things too! Jean is like Charlie! Jean family
> 
> "Erie may bad shiny go way and no ead hurty more" = Erie made bad shiny (helmet) go away and no head hurting anymore
> 
> Come has dindin = Come have dinner
> 
> Has bat time = Have bath time 
> 
> Can has sing? Erie pu high? = Can go on swing? Erie push high?
> 
> Can sit fron with you? = Can sit in the front with you?
> 
> bings moofins = bring muffins
> 
> 'lut! = Slut!
> 
> sing = swing
> 
> Pu high = push high
> 
> Beech! = Bitch!
> 
> Go uck yousel = Go fuck yourself = Logan = They're seriously making another Wolverine movie post XMFC?
> 
> Ome = Home
> 
> "Oki say can has lolly before dindin, good for dindin" = Loki said can have lollies before dinner, its good for dinner
> 
> "Oki say has buzzer Tor. Can has bunny Tor? Big one, ellow one! Big ears and Tor fly" = Loki says he has a brother Thor. Can have a bunny Thor? Big one, yellow one! Eith big ears and Thro can fly
> 
> Tweat = treat
> 
> Op noring me! ! No li'en to me! = Stop ignoring me! Not listening to me
> 
> Elp = help


	5. Three and Crowded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the reviews and kudos/favs/follows! You guise are way tastier than red bull!  
> Work is getting a bit hectic, I'm called away from the desk a lot, which means I can't 'pretend' to be vigorously working and typing away as much ;) So I'm really sorry that either I might be taking longer to update, or updating with shorter chapters.
> 
> The tone is gloomier than the previous chapters, a lot of plot setting, but don't worry, we haven't seen the last of fun loving wee!Charles!
> 
> Sharon Xavier in this story will be very un(comic)canon-like. My interpretation of her more or less grew from the one mention of her in the film, though it's a nastier version of an unoriginal interpretation. Also, I'm having Charles' telepathy manifest earlier in his life, rather than around age 10 in the comics. Forgive me for my handwaving attempts at connecting canon ;)
> 
> BTW: This is unbeta-ed, and I'm extremely sorry for all the many mistakes still left in here after my poor editing. Feel free to point them out to me, and I'll get it corrected asap!
> 
> Charles-speak decoded in endnotes

Charles sat stock still in the middle of the large ornate woven couch, not yet heavy enough to sink the plush cushions, yet it looked as if the couch was seconds away from swallowing the little boy whole.  
  
The boy looked like a spooked animal, body frozen and rigid, eyes far too alert, on the look out for an escape route to a safe place to hide. Not a word had escaped his mouth since his transformation. When Erik entered the chamber to retrieve the alarmed child, Charles yelped and whimpered through tightly sealed lips, whole body trembling, too frightened to even cry. Erik was hesitant to cause the child further distress, but there was no way he was letting Charles sit a minute longer in that claustrophobic chamber. The boy shook harder as the tall lithe man wrapped his arms lightly around him, becoming so distressed, he wet the sheet, some of it leaking onto Erik.  
  
Erik was now tormented by the memory of the overwhelmingly petrified child when he tried to give Charles a quick bath and have him changed into something clean and dry. Every moved Erik made seemed to lead Charles to believe he was going to get a severe beating at any moment. The sickened man knew this look well, having been surrounded by them in the camps.  
  
"Charles, you remember me don't you? It's Raven."  
  
His deep, frightened frown remained in place, small hands clutched tightly the pale green comforter he was now wrapped within, too scared and timid to look directly back into those extraordinarily bright and yellow orbs.  
  
"I'm your-"  
  
A well manicured hand with milky pearlescent nails stopped Raven before she said something to confuse the young boy's mind.  
  
"We are your new caretakers and tutors, Young Master Xavier."  
  
At that, Charles looked up with a tilted head and carefully considered the woman dressed completely in pristine white clothing, what little of it there is.  
  
Emma had probably probed into Charles memories, and concluded this was the easiest way to explain why so many strangers were in his house.  
  
 _His memories are of his three year old self. It's best to become plausible extensions of his memories, rather than forcing him to remember something that does not exist for him. The mind is as delicate as it is strong. A broken telepathic mind will do us no good._  
  
The icy presence of Emma's telepathy in the consciousness felt like a growing vine of ice, creeping and cracking at the blood vessels.  
  
"Your parents asked that we look after you while they are away. I am Miss Emma Frost, and I will be in charge of helping you develop your special skills."  
  
"Spe'al skill?" The intrigued boy unclenched a hand and pointed his little index finger at his head.  
  
"That's right, sugar. Very special skills. Skills to be proud of."  
  
A few of the adults quirked their brows at Emma's uncharacteristically caring tone, and her emphasis on how special he is. It was odd to see Charles as the student. Odd to consider that he wouldn't be anything but proud of his mutation. Alex glanced quickly at Hank and Sean, and confirmed all three of them were on edge about the sudden familiarity and kindness in Emma's demeanor.   
  
"B-but mama says... Says not to listen to the voices.. T-that I make her look foo'ish in front of her frien's.. They think is scary... T-that.. I a monster."  
  
Raven gasped and fell backwards a step. She knew, from what little she had seen of Charles' mother, that the woman was distant and cold to her son, but she had always attributed it to the alcohol. She never thought her brother had suffered a childhood with even a hint of the same bigotry as those with physical manifestations. She had always thought Charles would never understand her pain or anger.   
  
Why had Charles not shared this part of his life with her?  
  
The confused boy cowered deeper into the cushions, tugging the comforter tighter as Erik approached and knelt down before him.   
  
“No Charles. There is no need to fear your gift. All of us here are special like you. We do not hide any longer. We are better than-”  
  
Alex coughed loudly, glaring daggers at Erik, while he sat down next to the still timid and perturbed boy, hunching down low to meet Charles' worried and glazed eyes.  
  
“Hey there, little buddy. I'm Alex, and this is my little brother Scott, he's thirteen. That's Ororo there with the silky white hair, she's going to be eleven soon, and this little fiery girl here is Jean, who is nine years old. They're going to be students in this household with you. Myself along with Sean and Hank will be taking good care of you, OK? Sean's gonna take you all to get some lunch, while Hank and I talk with these other adults.”  
  
Scott came forward, big gentle smile on his face while he held out his hand for the child to take.  
  
“Come on, Charles! Sean promised us pancakes for lunch, and we're gonna help make'em!”  
  
Almost instantly, color and life returned to Charles' face, his large baby blues catch the light when he turns his small round head, topped with a thick messy mop of chocolate curls, to face Scott and offers him a shy, yet uncontainable smile.   
  
“Pancakes?” The child wiggles within the comforter, and chuckles breathlessly. “Can't have pancakes for 'unch.”  
  
The brunet tween looked well shocked, even behind those thick ruby red glasses. The Charles he had come to know, whether adult or infant, had always been indulgent with his appetite.   
  
“You don't want pancakes? I'm sure Sean can make you something else-”  
  
“Uh uh! I-I like some pancakes please! B-but mama won't be happy bout it..”  
  
Sean stepped up and gently ruffled the bashful boy's soft chocolate curls.   
  
“Let us worry about your mom for you. Come on, let's try to come up with the yummiest pancake!”  
  
Charles tried but failed to contain his glee, and in his excitement, he half fell off the couch when his legs got tangled within the comforter. Thankfully, Sean had caught him, and carried the boy, astounded and unused to Sean's physical proximity, out of the room swiftly while the other children raced each other to the kitchen.  
  
“Azazel, would you please take Raven to buy Charles some new clothes. Thank you.”  
  
Alex requested soon as Sean led the children out of the room, his tone and expression left no room for discussion. Angel, sensing trouble was ahead, opted to join the duo on their shopping excursion. Janos, quite often the designated cook of the house, slipped away quietly to help Sean with preparing lunch.   
  
“Perhaps you'd like to leave the room too, Frost.”  
  
Alex still does not take his hard cold gaze off Erik, who returned it with his own defiant and challenging glare.  
  
“Oh no, sugar. I'm quite happy right here.”  
  
Before Alex could get another word out, Erik, turns to Hank, face full of dread and worry.  
  
"What's was that, Hank? Have we caused more harm to him?"  
  
"I'm sure I don't need to ask Emma to tell you just how complex the brain is. We had been lucky that Charles retained fragments of his full memories before. With any luck, the next treatment will bring back his full memories.”  
  
"Are you completely sure it's safe for him to continue? What if it wipes his mind clean?"  
  
“And wouldn't that be just perfect for you.”  
  
Erik snapped his head back towards the seething blonde man.   
  
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  
  
“You just couldn't fucking wait to brainwash him could you. Is that why you've all stayed? To see if you can't influence Charles to bend to your will, to kill for you?”  
  
The metal scattered around the densely decorated room vibrated in discontent. Erik clenched his fists tight and willed his powers down.  
  
“I stayed because I want to protect our own. And because... I'm responsible for this mess.”  
  
Hank looked pointedly at Erik, but remained silent.  
  
“Damn right you are! If it weren't for you, Charles would be walking about, teaching others like us how to control and develop our abilities. Perhaps even able to provide us with a semblance of a normal life. The path you want force us on will turn all of us into soldiers and pawns. I don't wish that kind of life for Scott, for Ororo or Jean.”  
  
“There will not be a choice for any of us. The world at large now know about us. They fear what they do not understand. They will eliminate us.”  
  
Alex shook his head before replying, “You don't know that. There are a good number of decent people out there, who would love their children, their siblings, their family no matter what.”  
  
“If you believe that, then you are as naive as Charles.”   
  
“You want the honest truth? I hated the world. I used to wish every single human out there were dead, except for Scott. He was only four when they took him away from me. He hadn't manifested yet. I had no idea he was just like us... And Charles found him for me... Through the system, calling God knows how many people, filling out piles of paper work, paying an amount of money I don't think I'd ever see in my life. He did all of this without assuming Scott was a mutant. All he knew was that I had a brother out there I was worried sick about. It was only until after Scott arrived that Charles realized he had already located him with Cerebro before. If you had your way, what would you have me do if Scott wasn't a mutant?”  
  
Erik swallowed hard, and didn't answer. But all four in the room knew what his answer would be.  
  
“That is why I believe in Charles. And that is why I will fry you alive, if you attempt to manipulate Charles ever again.”  
  
Alex walked out of the room, Hank a few steps behind. When the blue-furred man reached the door way, he glanced back, his features sad yet resolute.  
  
"...Charles trusted me with helping him with his paralysis. I believe he would continue to trust me to see this through. I'm not one to betray his trust.”  
  
Erik watched the two young men leave the room speechlessly, with a new level of respect for them. They were not the same men he had parted with that day on the beach. They were stronger and more capable. Men he would be honored to call brothers.   
  
Emma, who had been watching the whole exchange with silent bemusement, walked up to Erik and gave him a few small pats on the shoulder.  
  
“You're not the only one who has underestimated those three young men. They will be a force to be reckoned with.”  
  
~x~  
  
“We all having 'unch together... here?”   
  
Charles asked in a heartbreakingly eager and hopeful voice. Sean and Janos had prepared a fully scrumptious meal with the help of the children. The large red oak dining table was lined full of colorful plates of fruit, eggs, bacon, sausages, pancakes and salad.   
  
“Of course, Charles... D-did you want us to eat elsewhere?”  
  
“No! ! !... Is just... i-if papa not home.. mama don't like to eat... I-I don't like to eat by myself on the big table... W-where papa? Papa be home soon?"  
  
"Uhh.. No, your parents have gone away. They won't be back... for a while.."  
  
Raven was reluctant to lie, but no good would come out of telling the child a truth that 'hasn't happened yet'. Azazel had only minutes before returned with Angel and Raven from the shops. Angel immediately put Charles' new batch of clothing into the washer, and temporarily wrapped Charles into a smaller sheet so that he could move about with more ease, making goo goo eyes at him because he look adorably cute as a mini Ancient Grecian.  
  
"Papa is impor'ant scien'tis! I-I wanna be like papa when I'm big! Will I learning scien'tis things?”  
  
It was the first time since the this morning's transformation that Charles looked so happy and... well, himself.   
  
“Sure buddy! Hank here is quite the amazing scientist, I'm sure he'd love to show you the lab sometime.”  
  
Sean pointed his finger towards the humble genius a few seats across. When intrigued azure eyes landed on the blue fuzziness, a large smile broke out on Charles' tilted head.  
  
“Mr. Hank, are you a teddy?”  
  
Hank flinched at the sudden onslaught of attention on him from around the table.  
  
“Biologically, I'm not a bear at all, but I can understand why you might see the-”   
  
“Hank's so much better than a teddy, he can fly a plane!”  
  
Scott's input had most of the table laughing, setting an easy, cheerful tone for the rest of the meal. When Erik reached for the plate of pancakes topped with a mountain of caramelized apple drizzled with squidges of maple syrup, Charles squirmed in his chair and pointed at the plate with a tiny finger, torn between excitement and shyness.   
  
“I-I helped make that one.”  
  
The boy seemed still too shy to look at anyone directly in the eye, his eager gaze darting about the table, small shoulders hunched high, as if always preparing to duck away from something.   
  
“Did you now? Would you like to help cut me a piece?”  
  
The request threw Charles into a sort of stupor. The boy slowly lifted his gaze at the seriously looking man sitting at the end of the table, where his mother would normally sit. His expression looked as if Erik had just asked if Charles wanted to go outside to play.  
  
“Yes, please!”  
  
Charles slid down from his chair, and ran up to Erik, who prompted the giddy boy up on his knee without second thought, and ruffled his hair. This shocked the boy, his whole body tensing up somewhat, bitty mouth agape in wonder at how easily his new caretakers dished out kindness and affection. Before the child could grab the fork, Erik uses his power to levitate the cutlery up into the air, stunning Charles into further astonishment.   
  
“...Who doing that? It-it's flying! ! Mr. Erik, you doing that! ?”  
  
The awestruck child stretched his neck to look up at the man twiddling his fingers to make the the metal dance in front of them. When Charles returned his attention back on the table, Erik had proceeded to fly a good forkful of pancake and caramelized apples right up to Charles' mouth, delighting the toddler to no end.  
  
“Yummy! Mr. Erik, have some!”   
  
Charles pokes at the levitating fork, as if to tell it to fill itself up with another serving, and continues to prod at it until it arrived before Erik's awaiting mouth with a large serving.  
  
“Do you like it, Mr. Erik?”   
  
“It's delicious, maus! Let me guess, apple is your favorite fruit?”  
  
“How you know? Wait! I not a mouse! Why you calling me mouse?”   
  
Charles had to cover his mouth to hold in his laugh, making him release a series of snorts instead.  
  
“It's your nickname. You don't like it?”  
  
“I never had a ni'name before... I like it! Thank you!”  
  
Erik tried his best to return an equally fond smile, and project affectionate thoughts, but it broke his heart to see Charles like this, so vulnerable and starved for companionship. He was certain everyone around the table felt the same, and were wondering how Charles managed to grow into the confident and magnetic man he is.  
  
~x~  
  
Charles' new clothing had been washed and put through the dryer by the time they had finished their lunch and washed up. Raven had selected a few pairs of pants that had bum flaps, just because she thought Charles would look cute in them, but explained that it would make it easier for Charles when he goes potty.   
  
After this morning's mishap, Erik debated whether to keep Charles in diapers still, but when he questioned the toddler himself, Charles covered his mouth again and snorted as if Erik had just said the dumbest thing.   
  
“I know how to potty!”   
  
Charles was so eager to show Erik that he didn't need diapers and that he could potty by himself just fine, he rushed out of the toilet after a thorough wipe and flushing, not realizing his bum flap had come undone.   
  
“Mr. Erik, come look! I potty by myself! And wiped by myself! And flush by myself too!”   
  
The boy led the man energetically through the mansion, mooning his little bare bottom at everyone he passed. Whenever Erik tried to reach down to button up the flap, Charles would somehow mistake Erik as playing tag, and the boy would run ahead a few paces, squealing with glee. After a few failed attempts, Erik gives up on the bum flap, and proceeds to play a bit of tag with him, just to see a carefree and delighted Charles some more.   
  
~x~  
  
A man of his word, Hank placed a chewy cookie filled with three types of chocolate chunks on a plate in front of Charles after he gave the curious boy a detailed tour of the lab the adult Charles had declared was his to do as he wished.   
  
"Here you go, our bravest little boy. You deserve it after what you've been through today."  
  
Charles sat in the chair stunned. His eyes nearly popping out, and drool was beginning to form at the sides of his little moist mouth. But he didn't immediately grab the cookie and stuff it into his mouth like Hank expected him to. Instead, the little boy almost looked lost and apprehensive as to why he was being given this extraordinary treat.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Hank... But I didn't do anything spe'ial today.”  
  
Those soulful blue eyes flick helplessly between the cookie and the wooly man. Hank crouched down and gave Charles' chubby cheeks a little squeeze, causing the child to giggle while leaning into the touch.   
  
“You were very brave today. You woke up to a house full of strangers when your parents' weren't here to protect you.”  
  
“But your not a stranger no more. W-will you all be staying for long? No one ever stay for long..”  
  
“Yes Charles, we would like to stay for however long you'll let us.”  
  
“Really? I-I like that very much.. Thank you!”  
  
Charles carefully grabs the cookie with both hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world and presents it to Hank on his little palms.  
  
“Would Mr. Hank like half? Papa says is good to share!”  
  
“You're papa is a good man.”  
  
“Yeah! Papa is the bestest papa in the world! He not at home much... I miss him. Mama does too.. I think.”   
  
~x~  
  
The children were gathered in the large study with a few of the adults. Erik was gathered at the elegant oak desk with Sean and Hank, looking over designs and plans, and discussing quietly the possibilities of building a more advanced version of Cerebro right here at the mansion. The list of coordinates Charles had produced with the Cerebro prototype has more or less been exhausted, with many of the coordinates now obsolete.   
  
On the worn leather couch sat the three older children, dutifully listening and taking notes from Emma's lecture on mathematics, veering towards business, accounting and what sounds eerily like tax evasion. There had been concern about how they should teach the three children, with Jean being a few years younger, but she has proved herself to be incredibly intelligent, catching on to complex scientific and mathematical concepts with relative ease. Scott and Ororo, although eager to learn, find abstract equations harder to grasp. Scott excels in spacial disciplines like geometry, often earning a bit of extra pocket money when he plays pool against Azazel or Janos. Ororo on the other hand, prefers the more spiritual and environmental subjects, her mutation allowing her a unique connect with nature.  
  
Next to them, sitting on the lavish Persian rug is Raven and Charles, with scrap paper scattered all around them and a small bucket of crayons tipped out. Charles was using both hands to draw colorful pictures of anything that comes to mind, and Raven kept him amused and amazed by constantly transforming into new appearances.   
  
Charles was deep in concentration on his portrait of Raven when the doorbell rang, making him yelp in fright, and immediately crawling onto Raven's lap.   
  
“Charles? What's the matter? It's only the doorbell.”  
  
Raven caresses and soothes her brother, but the sheer terror in his eyes had her blue scales raised.   
  
“I-is it Mr. M-Marko? Please don't let it be Mr. Marko...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spe'al = special  
> foo'ish = foolish  
> frien's = friends  
> 'unch = lunch  
> impor'ant scien'tis = important scientist  
> ni'name = nickname


	6. Three, IV and 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the chapter title suggests, there will be time skipping ahead!
> 
> Thank you all for the continued support for this fic! I'm utterly floored by all the positive reviews, favs/alerts/kudos! I take to heart all that's been said, and do try my best to include any and all suggestions (even though it was probably not meant as one), so do feel free to comment on how you'd like to see this story evolve :D
> 
> Huge thanks to Gildatheplant (AO3) for pointing out some comic canon tidbits, thus allowing me to put a darker spin on Brian Xavier's story!
> 
> After searching and searching, I couldn't find the title of Charles' thesis, so I made a lame one up.
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of 'past' child abuse. 
> 
> Charles-speak decoded in endnotes

"Whoa, don'cha remember me, chuckles?"  
  
Charles gripped at Raven's white top, pulling it tight into his small round face, revealing only a sliver of his vivid blue eyes. It was the first time he had clung onto someone so tightly since his last transformation. At least, his trembling and frightened questioning eyes had wavered when the person at the door proved not to be his 'future' stepfather.   
  
Logan 'Go Fuck Yourself' Howlett never did stay at the mansion for long since the day he was forced by a teary eyed, fowled mouthed, barely two year old toddler to return home with them from the park. After filling his stomach, and his sack full of freshly cooked and perishable food, Logan declared, "I ain't no fucking animal to be caged," and disappeared for a while before returning from time to time to start the free loading ritual again.  
  
“Charles, this is Logan, he'll be... here time to time... to... fix things. See, there's nothing to worry about, it's not Mr. Marko.”  
  
The sourness was clearly evident in Raven's voice when she said that latter name. A name that made Charles flinch within her embrace, little brows knitted together in worry. The boy tentatively eyed the newcomer, soon becoming entranced by the burly man's unique hairstyle. Mustering up some courage, Charles gave the man a welcoming smile.  
  
“How do do, Mr. Logan.”  
  
Charles stretched a small, and still wonderfully podgy arm towards the new guest to shake hands, not quite saying his greeting correctly. Impressed with the boy's boldness, the cigar smoking man gave the little hand a soft fist bump, making Charles snicker into Raven's neck as shyness caused him to duck back into her embrace.  
  
~x~  
  
“Who is this Marko?”  
  
The younger children had all gone to bed around an hour ago, and Scott was now allowed to stay up till whenever he wants, as long as he wakes up for breakfast. He was gathered with the adults in the main lounge where the television is placed, quietly sipping his cup of hot chocolate, trying to hide his pout because Alex had forbidden Logan to add a little kick into his drink.   
  
Erik had been waiting all day to question what Raven knew of this 'Mr. Marko' that had driven such fear into Charles. The others all looked to Raven, equally concerned for the welfare of their little friend.   
“Kurt Marko was Charles' stepdad. I didn't know him all that well, Charles kept me at a distance from his human family, even though he had already made them believe I was part of the family, but Charles insisted on being cautious. And with Kurt, I was thankful he did. I-I don't know if he's ever laid a hand on Charles, but I've seen him beat his own son, Cain... Whipped him with a belt..”  
  
Raven closed her luminous yellow eyes, and a single tear ran down her cheek as that haunting imaging replaying in her mind.   
  
“I was so terrified that first time I witnessed it, all I could think about was getting the hell away from this place. But Charles... he asked me to trust him. To trust that he would not let harm come to me. And I did. I trusted him with my life, I still do.”  
  
The look on the blue skinned beauty was melancholic and fond at the same time. Raven leaned into the red skinned man sitting next to her, his deep red tail wrapped around her ankle offering support and comfort. Hank, sitting a few seat away, was decidedly not looking at them.   
  
“Is he still alive?”  
  
“No.. Kurt died in a fire that damaged more than half the mansion. H-he died saving our lives. His death changed Cain. In some ways, I think it freed him. I haven't seen or heard from him since.”  
  
There was clearly still a lot of unanswered questions clouding everyone's mind. Erik for one wondered just how much he did not know about his friend, and just how much assumptions he had made at the sight of his wealth and disposition.   
  
~x~  
  
As planned, Charles was given the green light for a weekly session in the pressure chamber if he passed a health check conducted by Hank, and a mental health check by Emma, with Jean to assist so that she knew what to do if Emma was not around.   
  
The next round aged him around a year, and restored his memories to around the age of four. Luckily, his memories of the mansion's current residents were in tact this time, albeit, they were memories of them retained from the last treatment.   
  
Hank deemed this as a good sign, that Charles' body and mind may have adapted to the process and if this continues, by the time they reach their goal, Charles would gain back his full memories.   
  
~x~  
  
It was a beautiful sunny day, a perfect day for Alex and Logan to do some physical training with the children outside. Alex had taken up most of the physical training with the children, preferring to stay away from the academic teaching. Logan, whenever he was around, liked to join in on the training, seeming to take a bit of pleasure in pushing Scott to his limits.  
  
“You know what, bub? What you're lacking here is a real training room. You know, one of them dungeons with bullets and knives flyin' at ya from all directions? Something dangerous I can really sink my claws into, none of this tree climbing business.”  
  
Alex wiped at the sweat dripping down his forehead from their sparring and gave Logan an annoyed look.   
  
“We're not training to fight. We're training to increase control on our abilities. At the most, we're training for defense.”  
  
It was Logan's turn to look annoyed.  
  
“Whatever helps you sleep, bub. I ain't sayin' I agree with everything Shark Teeth says, but I agree a war is comin' for us, and these kids need to realize they need to be able to fight, whether human or not.”   
  
Logan said the latter words pointedly looking towards the still lush Evergreen under which Charles and Erik sat on a blanket laid down on top of the grass. The toddler was watching the training enraptured along with his two sock bunnies, Loki and Thor, the latter of which Angel made him out of some of the clothing Charles had grown out of.  
  
When Raven had 'reintroduced' Charles to Loki, the toddler's reaction was much like when Hank gave him the cookie a few days prior. She was still coming to grips with just how... deprived being the best word, Charles was as a child. The Charles she knew seemed to have it all, anything he wanted he would have. She felt foolish now, being so jealous of all the wealth and comfort she thought he grew up with.  
  
“Erik, will you be helping me with my tele skills?”  
  
After days of letting Charles know there was no need to address everyone so formally, Charles finally let himself drop the Misters' and Misses'. The boy was very reluctant to let the last remnants of his guard down, every so often ask whether they'd be staying for long, and what they'd be doing next week, so very afraid he'd wake up alone in this massive mansion.  
  
“I'll help where I can, maus, but I think Emma or Jean would be better suited to help you there.”  
  
“Papa help me when he home.”  
  
...what?  
  
“Did... you just say your papa knew of your telepathy?”  
  
“Yeah! Papa took me to the labby all the time and let me play with all the toobs and beaks, and he stick stickies all on my head that made my head go buzz buzz and stick needle that turn red, but I'm a good boy and it didn't hurt, only a little bit.”  
  
Erik's face turned paler by the second as Charles explained with utter delight what his father had done to him. This new knowledge made him sick to the core.   
  
Brian Xavier had known about Charles' telepathy, and by the sounds of it, he had conducted experiments on him. Worse still, Charles had probably mistaken his father's actions for affection. He needed to dig further into Brian Xavier's research, knowing that the man had worked under a government contract. How much did the man know about mutants? If he had experimented on his own son, it was more than likely he had experimented on other mutants the government had detained.   
  
~x~  
  
Alone in the starkness of the mansion's laboratory, Hank was quietly going over again his calculations of the designs for the new Cerebro to be built as an extension to the underground bunker. Recently, he had come to prefer, more than usual, the quiet isolation of the lab to the bustling energy of the rest of the mansion, only showing his face during meals, his lessons with the children, or when designs needed to be discussed.  
  
His increased isolation was to save himself from witnessing the budding relationship forming between Raven and Azazel. Hank had been quite surprised that nothing romantic had developed between Raven and Erik, though he figured he was never any good at reading these things, so perhaps he was wrong on that front.  
  
In retrospect, he knows when and why he, and perhaps _they_ , lost Raven. That private conversation he had with her before he injected that life changing serum still haunts him. It is true he had been deeply ashamed of his mutated feet and hidden them for most of his life, and it is still true that even now, he suffers from moments of weakness, and wishes just to hide from the world.   
  
It was worst after Cuba, when he couldn't even visit Charles in the hospital because of his new physical mutation that he couldn't conceal. He had to wait until Charles returned to the mansion to make his apologies about Raven, and come clean about what transpired between them the night before Cuba, sparking what he believed the fuse. He will never forget the pure sadness and regret in Charles' expression when the wheelchair bound man told him it was not his fault, that instead, it was Charles' own over protectiveness for his sister and his fears that got the better of him.   
  
He may still be coming into grips with his self-esteem and inferiority complex, but he now understood just how much hurt he must have inflicted on Raven when he tried to push his former ideals on her in the form of helping her, and how painful it must have been to Raven when he said that only her 'human form' was beautiful and acceptable. He doesn't even know where to begin to ask for forgiveness. However, he still cannot agree with Erik's or Shaw's vision for a mutant revolution.  
  
Hank was so lost in thought, he hadn't noticed Charles enter the lab and stand right up next to him, looking up with gleaming blue curious eyes. He barely managed to contain a scream when he felt something tugging at his trousers.   
  
"Hank, are you a monkey? Can I g'oom you? The telly said monkeys g'oom their frien's!"  
  
"Uugghhhh...well that's actually a very good question, Charles. All humans are primates and-”  
  
Charles beams and sat himself down by Hank's feet, listening with gusto as Hank continued to explain the evolutionary history between humans and their primate cousins. A few minutes into his lecture, Charles lifts up Hank's trouser leg and inspects the striking blue fur, his tiny hands splayed wide open to tentatively patted at the blue fur.  
  
“Hank? What's g'ooming?”  
  
The fuzzy beast lets out a fond chuckle, and lifts Charles up towards a nearby reflective surface.  
  
“Grooming is a cleansing ritual. For many animals, grooming each other is also a way to bond with each other.”  
  
“S-so good frien's g'oom good frien's? Hank is my good frien! I can g'oom you? But how?”  
  
Hank couldn't resist giving Charles a good soft ruffle in the head. Deciding it probably isn't for the best to have Charles groom anyone like primates do, he thought the best option was to indulge the toddler with a lesson in hair brushing. Hank stood in front of a bathroom mirror, with Charles stood on the marble surface bench top, each with a comb in hand, Hank slightly clumsily brushing Charles' silky chocolate curls, and Charles brushing at the thick blue fur in return with swift little strokes.   
  
Charles becomes entranced in the repetitiveness of the brushing, and starts humming his own little melody, oblivious to the glistening sorrowful eyes looking down at him.  
  
“I'm so sorry Charles. Whenever I try to help, I-I just seem to make thing worse. I'm so so sorry... I'm so sorry for this and for Raven...”  
  
Unbeknownst to Hank and the confused toddler, Raven stood quietly beside the doorway, leaning away from view on the wall. She closed her eyes and took in a few deep breaths before walking away in silence.   
  
~x~  
  
Erik dropped his bag on the ground and collapsed onto the bed, left unmade after he had rushed away from the mansion with Emma, Raven, Janos and Azazel when they caught wind of a possible government mutant holding facility in the Russian-Siberian border. It turned out to be a trap, when dozens of armed guards and soldiers surrounded them barely minutes after their arrival. Luckily, the facility was not aware of Erik's mastery over metal, and not a single of mutant blood was shed. The same, of course, could not be said of the humans.  
  
It was the first time Erik had left the mansion and Charles' side for a prolonged period since his return. Even though they were only gone a few days, he missed the boy dearly, and was more than a little disappointed when they were not welcomed back by a beaming child at the door. In fact, it seemed the other adults were out, and Scott had been left in charge, which may or may not explain the bewildered look on his face upon their earlier than planned return.  
  
When questioned on the whereabouts of the other children, Scott assured them that things were under control, and they should get some rest before dinner. This could only mean things were probably less than fine, but Erik really was too tired to drill the teen further. In any case, he figured if something really were wrong, Emma would have sensed it already, but instead she just walked passed the slightly nervous teen and winked at him, making him blush a hue of red to rival his glasses.  
  
Closing his eyes to force himself to clear him mind to that he could get some well needed sleep, Erik noticed a small sniffing noise coming from inside the closet. Unwilling to face what might be an oversized rodent wreaking havoc inside that closet, Erik's eyelids remained steadfastly shut as he continued his attempt to fall asleep. The sniffing continued, getting progressively louder, to the point where the man could take no more, and he willed his heavy limbs to move him off the bed towards the source of the sniffing. He floated over the small trash can to the foot of where the door would open, just in case he was quick enough to catch the bloody pest. When Erik slowly  
  
"*Sniff* E-E-Eri-k? *sniff sniff*"  
  
"Charles!? What's the mat-”  
  
Scheiße! !  
  
Charles' mop of silky chocolate brown hair looked like someone went and had a crazed field day of weeding, and it left the small boy with patches of bold areas all over his head. Thick wet streams of tears and snot ran down the little boy's face and hands as he sat crawled in on himself in one tiny corner of the closet.  
  
"E-Erik! ! !"  
  
Charles crawled out of the closet, and ran straight into Erik's open arms, and buried his head as deep into that lean masculine chest as he could.  
  
"E-Erik! H-h-hel-p! U-ug-ly"  
  
"Oh, maus, you're not ugly. It will grow back. W-what on earth happened?"  
  
"S-cott's bub-ble gu-mmy poop on m-y head, a-and Oro-ro try w-ashy i-it, b-but did-didn't do no-thing, and the-n Je-ean tried cut it o-ut!!"  
  
Erik glanced up, and the three teens stood with faces a mix of worry and guilt at the door, too scared and intimidated by Erik to come in.  
  
"I don't wan-na be a bow-ling ball!!" Erik knew he shouldn't have let Angel let them read those 'Peanuts' comic strips. They had been coming up with increasingly degrading nicknames for that bald-looking character.  
  
"Of course you're not a bowling ball!" Erik knew he should not find this adorably funny, but it's really impossible not to.  
  
"Come, let's get you washed up and sort this out."  
  
"I'm so sorry, Charles.." Jean's eyes were red and watery, her cheeks puffed and lips quivering.  
  
"No, it's not Jean's fault. It's mine. I'm really sorry. Please forgive me.”  
  
Scott stepped up to take fault, giving both the girls a little comforting squeeze on the shoulder.  
  
Charles, having calmed down within Erik's warm embrace, looked at the teen with considering eyes, before breaking a teary eyed smile.  
  
“Is okay, I forgive you, Scott and Jean.”  
  
“We can help make you hats! You can have hair like Logan!”  
  
Ororo, who has bonded closely with Sean, is also quick on her feet when it comes to Charles' welfare. Her suggestion hit the right spot, as Charles lights up, and starts giggling at her wild and imaginative ideas for his hats.   
  
~x~  
  
Azazel teleported Janos and Emma back a few days later than Erik and Raven, after they conducted a more thorough investigation into mutant related activity in that area. Jano's first stop back at the mansion was not his room, but Charles' room to sneak in a little souvenir. He had a competition going with Azazel to see who could find the better gifts in their time away from the mansion. He did not expect to find Charles in his bedroom when he entered without knocking, nor did he expect to find the child happily looking into the mirror, wearing a floppy baby blue woolen beanie with two long flaps drooped down on the sides, a bit like rabbit ears.  
  
“It is not yet cold enough to cover the hair, let it fly in the wind.”  
  
Janos slides off the knitted beanie, and loud unbelieving gasp escapes from the man as he uncovered the round, smooth and completely hairless skin. Watery eyes and red pouty lips stopped him from saying anything he would regret.  
  
“W-w-what interesting hats you have.”  
  
Charles spends the next half hour showing off his impressive hat collection, ranging from miniature newsboys, bowlers and fedoras to hand knitted beanies with an array of animal ears on them. Charles was especially proud of a black beanie with two large almost circular ears protruding at the top.  
  
“And this one, Erik got me. Is like Mickey Mouse! And Erik calls me mouse! So I can be Charlie Mouse!”  
  
The cheerful boy then placed the Mickey hat on and proceeded to do a little dance around his room, every now and then making sniffing noises like a little mouse.  
  
~x~  
  
“Charles, I wish to ask you a few questions, if you're not comfortable with answering them, it is perfectly alright not to.”  
  
Erik had tucked Charles snugly into bed with Loki and Thor on either side him, tucked in tight by Charles himself. The boy tilted his head in thought, and gave Erik a big smile and nodded in assent.   
  
“Did Kur- Mr. Marko ever touch or hurt you?”  
  
The warm smile quickly turned to worried lips and scrunched brows.   
  
“...no.. He comes visit mama lots when papa not here. Always looking so happy and nice to mama, but his head.. inside his head... I see bad picture of papa, and I-I don't think he really likes mama like she thinks he does.”   
  
Erik releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He was relieved Charles had not been physically abused by this man on top of the neglect and manipulation carried out by his parents.   
  
“Your mama liked Mr. Marko a lot?”  
  
“Yeah... papa not home a lot.. He were here more than papa, and it make mama happy. B-but she would get sad and scared when she look at me sometimes.. S-she don't like my tele skills.”  
  
Charles tried to sink himself further into his mattress, looking ashamed and rueful.   
  
“No, maus. Your skills are amazing. Don't ever be ashamed of it, and don't ever let anyone make you feel that way. I'm sorry I had to ask you about this. Would you like me to read you a story now?”  
  
“Yeah!”  
  
“How about I read you one of my favorite books. The Evolution of the Homo Sapien Superior by Charles F. Xaveir, Ph.D.”  
  
“That's my name!”  
  
Charles jumped up out of the blankets and set himself on Erik's lap to better see what the man was reading. Erik felt warmth flow through him at the return of the free-caring and trusting toddler, and leaned down to give the boy a soft kiss on the head. The last treatment in the chamber not only aged Charles to around five years of age, but also helped with his hair growth. It still isn't as long and shaggy as before, but at least Charles no longer pouted at the mirror when brushing his teeth.  
  
“It sure is, maus. No doubt you'll grow up to be as great a man as he, or even better.”  
  
~x~  
  
Unfortunately, the next update will definitely take more than a week to update (fingers crossed less than 2 weeks)... Sometimes, being the main English speaker in a small company in Asia is a pain when you're called on to babysit the international clients... something I loathe do to.. It's gonna be a long hellish week.. O_o  
  
Coming up: Brian Xavier's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do do = How do you do  
> tele skills = telepathy  
> labby = laboratory  
> toobs and beaks = tubes and beakers   
> stickies = stickers  
> g'oom = groom  
> frien' = friend


	7. Six and Seeing Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loads of love to you all for the awesome reviews and kudos/alerts/favs! So sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, after a week of brown nosing them clients, I had to catch up on actual work, yay~
> 
> Doing something different for this darker chapter, might be a bit WTF at first, but by the end it will hopefully make sense!
> 
> I tried to do as much research into canon as I could about Brian Xavier and Kurt Marko, but either I've been searching in the wrong wikis or there really isn't much written, so again I go with the handwaves ;)
> 
> Warnings: Child abuse, character death, gore

"Father, why they put mother into the hole?"  
  
The small child with closely cut, deep auburn hair looked with both confusion and panic at the sight of his mother being trapped inside a box while she slept, and now being lowered into that deep dark hole in the ground. Yet there seemed to be some force making him too scared to speak too loudly, or act too distraught.  
  
 _Marjorie... How could you leave me like this? Our son is so young. How could you leave me alone to raise him? I don't know what to do with him..._  
  
"Father, mother can't get out if they put the sand in. Please, please stop them father."  
  
The toddler looked around him, imploring anyone with his lost blue eyes to help him save his mother, but no one answered. Faceless figures dressed all in black stood at a distance, perhaps mourning, perhaps not, it doesn't truly matter.  
  
"S-stop it! Please! Mommy, wake up! ! Mommy! !"  
  
The boy could no longer hold in his frustrations, and he ran up to the men in black clothing systematically shoveling the dirt into that hole to try stop their burying of his mother. Out of nowhere, a rough black sleeved arm grabs at the child, jerking the child away from his mother.  
  
"You listen to me, Cain, and listen well. Your mother will not be waking up. She will not be coming home. It is just you and I now. You must do as I say and be a good boy for me. Do not disappoint me, ever."  
  
"Y-yes, father..."  
  
 _Marjorie... I will not disappoint you. Cain will grow up to be everything I wish I were._  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
"B-but I don't like it there, father! Please don't make me go back there!"  
  
The small boy was crouched at his father's feet, pulling on the meticulously ironed suit leg, tears staining onto the gray fabric. His watery begging eyes had no effect on his father expect to irritate the man further.  
  
"You will do as you're told. That school is one of the finest in the area. It is costing me a fortune to have you in attendance.”  
  
"They're mean and horrible there, father! I don't wanna go back! Please!"  
  
 _Such weakness... Marjorie, I will do better. I will be tougher on him._  
  
“Another word, and I shall send you away to a boarding school far from home.”  
  
The boy's shook with worry, his pleading eyes looked up but to no avail. Those suited legs then walked away, leaving the shivering child sitting alone on the wooden floor, head downcast in acceptance of his fate.   
  
  
~x~  
  
  
"Marko, meet Dr. Brian Xavier, I'm sure you've read all about him and his work in your field. We are extremely fortunate to have him join our research. Dr. Xavier, this is Dr. Kurt Marko with whom you shall be working closely with here in New Mexico."  
  
A tall man with greasy jet black hair introduced a seemingly meek man wearing a well tailored suit and a pair of round glasses.  
  
"An honor to meet you at last, Dr. Marko. I have read several of your papers, and I am more than excited to be working along side you."  
  
Dr. Xavier was soft spoken in fitting with his appearance, however his firm, confident handshake reveals a hidden strength to him. The man was very well known throughout not just in the nuclear field but the entire scientific community for his intellect and his enormous family fortune. Any project he is connected to is almost guaranteed success and complete financial backing.   
  
“An honor, Dr. Xavier.”  
  
 _Milbury and Mueller must have pulled out all the stops to have this one come on board. Xavier's papers are thorough, but not groundbreaking... If not for his wealth, where would he be? If I had his wealth..._  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
“Dr. Marko, thank you for coming in on such short notice. I understand you are a very hard working and busy man.”   
  
The Dean's office was simply furnished, tidy to a fault, almost military in its bareness, not quite what one expected of one of the most prestigious and expensive schools around. The Dean himself was dressed in a crisply ironed and blindingly bleached shirt, buttoned up all the way. The man sat perfectly straight and his hands rested on his clean desk at right angles.   
  
“I regret to have to tell you that Cain has been... disruptive in his classes. He is not getting along with the other children, oftentimes becoming aggressive or simply shutting down altogether. None of the teachers have been able to get through to him. In the last month alone, he has been asked to visit my office nearly a dozen times. How is he at home? Is he disciplined? The loss of his mother may still be taking a large toll on him. Perhaps, with your permission, our school counselor could set up a few sessions with hi-”  
  
As the Dean continued, the man's face seemed to fade and a bitter sourness rose up to fill the air.  
  
 _Such a disappointment... So much trouble... I must be tougher still._  
  
“Yes, that would be fine. I will take... action at home too.”  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
"Well, hullo there, who is this handsome young man?"  
  
The woman was stunning. She wore a provocatively tight dress that oozed sensuality, large diamond earrings dazzled on her earlobes and she smelt of wealth and pampering. A woman of a different world to Marjorie.  
  
"Cain, say hullo to Mrs..."  
  
"Xavier."  
  
The name rolled off the woman's tongue with velvety confidence.  
  
 _Xavier... And his beautiful wife._  
  
"My apologies, Madam Xavier. I had no idea. Thank you for hosting this lovely party. Dr. Kurt Marko at your service, and this is my son, Cain."  
  
"A real pleasure to meet you, Dr. Marko, I have heard much about you from Brian, and my condolences about your wife. Please, do call me Sharon. And I'm very pleased to meet you too Cain. My son Charles is a few years your junior. He's somewhere around here... probably attached to Brian's limb.. can never get that boy to... Ah! There he is. Charles, come here!"  
  
A little bubbly boy, with large piercing blue eyes, curly brown hair and rosy pink cheeks came bumbling towards his mother, red little lips spread wide in mirth. Much like his mother, the little boy radiated a shine about him, it was almost enchanting.   
  
_Xavier... And his precious son._  
  
"Charles, this is Mr. Marko and his son, Cain. Mr. Marko is a good colleague of your papa, so you must be on your best behavior with them. Why don't you take Cain outside to play?"  
  
The joy suddenly morphed into concern and worry the second those little bright blue eyes landed on the gloomy older boy, standing awkwardly straight beside his father in silence.  
  
"But, mama..."  
  
"What is it, Charles? You are to do as you are told and be good to our guests.."  
  
The woman then knelt down and spoke into her son's ear roughly, a gesture quite otherworldly to her dainty polished physique.  
  
"-none of that voices business-"  
  
Charles chewed at his lips and looked downcast at the elaborate Persian rug. He seemed unwilling to look up again at their guests, and even cowered backward behind his mother's silk stocking covered legs.   
  
“Cain, go play with Charles outside. Behave yourself, do not let me down.”  
  
A large hand tugged tightly at the gloomy boy, and the boy flinched before giving a short silent nod. He marched with reluctance towards the large glass doors that led out to the immaculately kept gardens and waited for the smaller boy to join him. The Xavier boy chewed at his lips and looked up at his mother again in the hopes of a change of heart, only to be pushed by a perfectly manicured hand towards the doors. As the boys walked outside, maintaining a good distance from each other, Sharon Xavier turned around and gave a sultry smile.  
  
“Let me get you a drink and show you around.”  
  
 _Xavier... And his opulent home.  
  
What makes him worthy?  
_  
  
~x~  
  
  
“What have I said about disappointing me!?”  
  
*Smack*  
  
“Why do you never listen!?”  
  
*Smack*  
  
“Why do you continue to let me down!?”  
  
*Smack, smack*  
  
“Why,” *Smack* “do you,' *Smack* “keep,” *Smack* “failing me! ! ?”  
  
“I-I'm So-sorry f-father! ! P-please stop! ! I-it hurts! Please! I'll b-be good! Please! !”  
  
*SMACK!*  
  
Cain's screaming had drowned out the sound of the leather belt snapping apart. A piece of leather flew into a framed picture of the Marko family, causing it to fall onto the ground, the glass cover shattering all over the floor.   
  
_...Marjorie!_  
  
“Now look what you've done! Go to your room and stay in there until I tell you otherwise. If I hear even a peep out of you, I will come in there and use a stick on you.”   
  
  
~x~  
  
  
“Dr. Marko, is that you?”  
  
A vision in red appeared. Sharon Xavier was decked out in an elegant and flowing dress suit with matching hat and gloves. Her jacket neckline was just low enough to allow a glimpse of the large pearl necklace that adorned her soft milky skin. Again, with the woman came a lingering floral with slightly citrous scent of sensuality and luxury.   
  
“Madam Xavier, what a pleasant surprise.”  
  
“Oh please, do call me Sharon. Do you frequent these parts often?”  
  
“Then please, call me Kurt. I am here on an errand, and I think I find myself a little lost.”  
  
“Well Kurt, perhaps I can show you the way, and afterward we can have us a nice round of tea. I know just the spot.”  
  
 _So different... A world apart from her... Such beauty and wealth.._ _ **  
  
**_“I... would love to. Please, lead the way... Sharon.”  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
“Dr. Xavier, I hear you've been invited to speak in front of a select committee for the military with other allied leaders in the field of nuclear science. Congratulations! This is quite an honor.”  
  
Xavier adjusted his glasses and maintained his sickeningly humble demeanor.   
  
“Thank you, Dr. Milbury. Indeed, I am very excited. It will be an unprecedented opportunity to discuss the future of this field.”  
  
They were gathered in the break room, coffee and tea as well as an array of snacks at the ready. Milbury was now seen as the leader of the Black Womb Project. The exact details of the Project and the subjects they would be researching had not been specified at the outset, and only after signing several securely binding legal contracts were you allowed in on the site.  
  
For the first few months, matters operated like a typical, well funded research and development project. However, when the fetuses and the bodies of babies turned up on their steel slab tables, the true nature of the project had finally revealed itself. They were here to conduct research into genetic mutations on humans, and to determine the causes. Then, live babies in post-natal holding tanks started to come in. Milbury had laughed and brushed off questions with replies like, “Don't you worry about that, Marko. It's all legal, and government sanctioned.”  
  
“I hear there is still serious effort in taking nuclear science into weapons development. Is that not too dangerous.”  
  
“Oh, you are much behind the times, Marko! The tensions in Europe are on going and escalating again, not to mention possible threats from the Far East. This country and our allies need to be able to defend itself.”  
  
“But the long-term effects of nuclear radiation without proper safety wear is unspeakable and probably uncontainable. Innocent people for generations are under threat.”  
  
“We'll just to have to make sure these weapons aren't deployed on our lands then!”  
  
Milbury smirked, and began to light up his cigar.   
  
“By the way, how are your sons? I have a favor to ask of you both.”  
  
Xavier readily agreed to Milbury's favor for them to bring in their children for testing, though it sounded more like an order.   
  
“Marko? I understand if you're unwilling. I see the way you look at the subjects, but rest assured your son will not be treated like so.”  
  
The man inhaled deeply his cigar, but was noticeably irked by the lack of immediate assent. Xavier himself sat with that preposterous gentle smile on his face, as if he understood everything.  
  
 _Xavier, you give me little choice.  
  
_ “O-of course, when did you want us to bring them in?”  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
"Please father! They stick those needles in me all the time! It hurts, father! Please, no more! Please! I don't wanna go back there! I'll be good at school! I promise! ! No more trouble!"  
  
The little boy, face distorted in agony and fear. He had clung himself tightly onto the door, unwilling to get into the car that will take him back to the glaring coolness of the laboratory.  
  
 _Cain.. Useless, weak, pathetic... Just like me._  
  
“Are you going to let Charles Xavier out perform you? He is half your age, for God's sake! He takes all the same tests with a smile. You will not embarrass me further.”  
  
“I hate it there! I hate you! !”  
  
 _Why?  
  
Why can't you see, Cain? I am harsh on you for your benefit. You must become a better man.  
  
_The boy's rage turned into resigned fear when he saw his father unbuckle his belt.  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
“Hullo, Charles. Nice to see you again. How are you?”  
  
The boy seemed to be trying to hide himself behind the chair, his tiny hands clutched tightly at its wooden leg.   
  
“Charles! That is no way to behave in front of a guest. Come here and say your greetings to Dr. Marko.”  
  
 _I wonder if the rumors are true..._  
  
 _Hullo Charles, you are a very special boy._  
  
The toddler's startling blue eyes widened in utter horror, before he ran off out of the room.  
  
 _A very special boy indeed..._  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
"Dr. Xavier, your son is doing exceedingly well in our tests. How do you get him to behave so well? He is so eager to please, not even a whimper when his blood is drawn. And his brain function is extraordinary! He would be a prime specimen for the Project, and Ms. Mueller would be more than pleased if you could continue to bring him here."  
  
Milbury has taken a real shine to the little Xavier boy, who in turn accepts everything without question to please his father.  
  
 _Like a loyal dog. Only without reward. Why does he loves his father so unconditionally?_  
  
"Unfortunately, the same could not be said of your son, Marko... We will have no further use for him, no need to bring him back anymore."  
  
 _Cain... Useless, weak.. Nobody.  
  
Sweet little Charles... Special, gifted, powerful... Mutant._  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
“This is for your benefit, Cain. I am having to spend more time at... work. The school has wonderful housing. You will behave there. You will excel and you will make me proud. Do you understand me, boy?”  
  
The boy knew now there was no use in crying or begging. He had learned that as long as he stayed quiet and did what his father wished, he would not be whipped or caned or locked in his room. He continued with his meal in silence, only to reply in a dead voice.  
  
“Yes, father.”  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
“We mustn't Kurt... I am married, and for all his faults, I still love Brian.”  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
"H-hel-p me... Kur-t.. Pl-ease.. hel-p..."  
  
Xavier's right leg was crushed under a massive steel slab, blood already pooled at the edge where his leg disappeared under. Nearly all of his left side had been severely burned by the hazardous chemicals contained in the hundreds of glass tubes that have exploded in the heat.  
  
The pain he was under was no doubt beyond imagination. The chemicals were still slowly eating away at his flesh, some parts of his skin were fizzing in reaction to the chemicals, while other parts have formed large bulging blisters. His round glasses had been wrecked and pieces of glass had impaled into and around his left eye. His muscles spasmed uncontrollably and it was obvious the man was not going to make it much longer.  
  
“H-h-hel... he-l.. h... he... huh...”  
  
The sight of the dying man was gruesome, but oddly therapeutic. A sense of calm washed over while watching the life slowly flow out of the man eyes, his bodily twitches were further apart in occurrence, until without warning or fanfare it finally stopped. And the world moved on.  
  
 _Good bye, Brian Xavier._  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
Sean woke in a start, throat so constricted he had to fight to breathe. He was drenched in sweat, his pajamas clung to him like a thick layer of irritating second skin. His heart was racing and his head felt like someone had been clubbing away at it.  
  
It was a godsend he hadn't screamed during his nightmare and hurt someone. Not since the night of his manifestation has he screamed due to a nightmare. The next day his parents sent him away.  
  
The dream he just had was eerily detailed and lifelike. More like memories. If he could only remember who it was about...  
  
Charles!  
  
Sean fell out of the bed, the blanket, heavy due to his sweat had tangled up in between his legs. As he stumbled towards Charles' room, he kept a hand wrapped tightly around his throat to force down his sonic scream. The image of the man, who must have been Charles' father, crushed under the debris and flames kept flashing over and over in his mind, making his head swell in pain.  
  
Charles must still be unconscious and trapped within his nightmare. When he passed Ororo's room Sean knew at once knew he needed to get her out of Charles' range first. The young woman was severely claustrophobic, and there is no doubt the images Charles projected would be pure trauma for her.   
  
“Ro! Where are you? Ororo!”  
  
With a hand still around his neck, Sean strained himself to call out for her, but the bed was empty, and the room was in ruin. He then hears soft whimpering coming from a dark corner of the room. Ororo was curled tightly within herself, head ducked deeply between her knees. Her nails had left angry long red gashes all along her forearm, and they were now dug into her flesh.   
  
“Ororo.. It's Sean. Everything is OK now. Shhh.. It's OK. Come on, let's go outside.”  
  
Ororo didn't react to Sean's voice, and when he tried to lift her off the ground, she started to scream in fear, revealing her ghostly white eyes. The breeze outside turned into strong gusts of wind, and lightening began to crackle in the low lying clouds. Sean had no choice but to just grab her and take her outside as soon as possible.   
  
When he ran out of the room with Ororo still fighting in his grasp, he hears agonized screaming coming from what he guessed was Jean's room. Thankfully Hank and had already gotten to her, and was in the process of taking her outside too. Jean's tears have turned a reddish hue, and blood was dripping from her nose.  
  
"It burns! ! Please, someone help! ! ! It burns! ! ! !"  
  
“Alex and Scott are already outside! Scott managed to hold in his blasts with the glasses, but Alex blew out a wall.. I think Jean's telepathy have somehow magnified Charles' projections within her mind.. I'm going to run as far away as possible out of his range.”  
  
That only leaves Charles, Erik and Azazel unaccounted for. Raven, Angel, Emma and Janos were on assignment across the country, and Azazel was back to debrief Erik. As they neared the front door, they heard Erik yell from the direction of Charles' room.  
  
"Azazel! Get everyone out of here, Jean and Ororo first! ! Then retrieve Emma, let her know what has happened, and drop her at the door, make sure she's in her diamond form. Do not come back in."  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
Erik had the helmet on, though it was obvious he had to struggle to get it on, what with the man grazes to his skin and tattered shirt. He shook Charles gently to try to wake him up, but got no response.   
  
"Charles! Please wake up! Come on, maus! It's Erik! It's a nightmare! It's all just a very bad dream! Please wake up for me! Please, Charles!!"  
  
The boy remained comatose on the oversized bed, eyes opened a slither, his breathing so quick and slight, it almost seemed he wasn't breathing at all. Charles was deathly pale, and beads of sweat formed over his hairline. Erik had not felt this hopeless since the day his mother was shot.   
  
Not a moment later, Emma ran into the room, looking more worried and flustered than he thought it possible of the woman.  
  
"Azazel filled me in. I will wake him."  
  
Even in her diamond form, Emma seemed not fully immune to the effects of Charles' telepathy. She was trembling, and Erik could hear the jarring noise of multiple little cracks forming all over her. She placed her hands on both sides of Charles' head, and closed her eyes in concentration.  
  
Charles suddenly gasped and his breathing became deeper and slower. His eyes finally opened, but the child only stared up at nothing.   
  
"..."  
  
"Charles? Are you with us? It was just a very bad dream. Come back to us... Please, say something to me.. It's Erik..."  
  
The distraught man whispered the final part into Charles' ear, who now laid stock still on the bed with wide unblinking eyes.  
  
"..."  
  
"Charles, come back to me...”  
  
"Pa.. pa... gone..."  
  
Finally, the boy closed his eyes as tears ran silently down his face.  
  
Charles had regained his six year old memories today.  
  
  
~x~  
  
  
"You saw it?"  
  
Emma had finally deemed it safe to come out of her diamond form. She used a finger to tenderly wipe away a tear drop falling down the sleeping boy's cheek. She didn't need to look at Erik or use her telepathy to know what he was asking.  
  
"Black Womb... Experiments on mutant infants and fetuses."  
  
"Find out if anyone associated with it is still alive, and take them to Hellfire. I want to personally deal with each and every one of them myself."  
  
"And what if those who conducted the experiments were mutant?"  
  
Erik painfully wanted to believe no mutant would do this, not to the future of their own kind, but after what he had suffered under Shaw, he knew a belief as naive as Charles' hope for peace.  
  
"Those who hurt us, are against us."  
  
Emma knew well when she should shut up, and pointing out how much that statement echoed Shaw was probably the last thing she could say right now. She does however, look at Erik with renewed faith, having been slightly worried this whole situation with Charles was making him soft and losing focus.  
  
"...if you find any of those children still alive today, let them know we would be honored to have them join us."  
  
Then again, there are moments when Erik Lehnsherr was the polar opposite of his so called mentor. He doesn't believe in coercing others to join in their cause. He believed those with strong enough faith would join voluntarily because their cause was right.  
  
~x~  
  
  



	8. Six and The Next Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the insightful comments and of course the continued support with the kudos/favs/alerts! You're all beyond awesome! A day late, and it was a rushed job in places, so feel free to let me know if there are any mistakes in there or thoughts that don't add up!
> 
> Rileybear14 (AO3) hoped to see baby!Charles some more, but since the story is phasing out of his baby bum flaps, I've decided to add little snapshots of baby!Charles at the end. This will provide some lightheartedness now that we've moved into more angsty stuff. Some of the snapshots won't actually fit into the story though, since the time setting will be off, but when Charles want's to be cute, there is no stopping him ;)

Erik didn't leave Charles' side for the rest of the night. He gently stroked the sleeping boy's head, trying to add what little comfort he could offer. Charles' tears had not stop flowing, but his body was too exhausted to do anything else. The man could not fathom what it was like for such a young child to be alone with these thoughts and memories, to see these images every time he faced the man who would become his step father. And of course, a mother who refused to listen.  
  
Raven had joined him in Charles' room a few hours later, after Emma had asked Azazel to return everyone to the mansion, including those who were on assignment. Wanting to understand her brother's past Raven asked Emma to show her what she had seen in Azazel's mind. She then spent the next hour or so throwing up in the bathroom, her blue scales flared into spikes, even though Emma had spared her most of the physical trauma by allowing only a glimpse of the fiery death. Now, she laid beside her brother on his bed, silently weeping, again reduced to stupor by just how much she didn't know of Charles' broken childhood, and how little strength she had been to him, compared to what he had to find by himself.  
  
"You cannot blame yourself, Raven. Protecting you from his past was probably important to him."  
  
"...I know.. I just.. I've been so naive and ungrateful.."  
  
~x~  
  
Few people were at the breakfast table in the morning, and those that were showed different levels of recovery and coping with what had occurred just hours before.  
  
Angel and Janos, knowing better than to dig for details, took charge of breakfast for Sean, who had himself quickly tried to revert back to his normally easy going and relaxed persona, but his croaky voice and the deep purple bruise around his neck revealed that he was far from spared any of the ordeal. Ororo eating her breakfast with thickly bandaged arms and shaking hands, showed immense strength and carried on as if nothing had happened. Normally a big breakfast eater, and an even bigger coffee drinker, Azazel caused some concern for his fellows when he stuck to some soothing herbal tea from Charles' vast stash. Looking a fraction less put together than usual, Emma also forwent the food, and sipped on some strong black coffee. Not one to waste time, she was going to do some heavy research into the Black Womb Project as soon as Azazel is able to pull himself together.   
  
No one dared tread into the topic of those vivid memories, so conversation at the table concerned mostly about the mission they had been on before being called back. Normally, if Alex was around, Ororo would not inquire openly about what happens during these missions, since she didn't want to upset the man, but she had always been curious. Turns out, this was a 'regular' data gathering mission, and the teen was intrigued at how organized they were, how each person's mutation was utilized and complimentary to each other. It was hard to understand why Alex still held such, currently hidden, contempt for Erik and the others. Everyone seemed to respect and value each so much, they can't be evil. But even Sean and Hank are sometimes wary, so there must be a good reason.  
  
As for those who were not present at the table, Scott had grabbed a few slices of toast for Alex and himself then returned to help his brother fix the damage caused by the plasma blasts forced out of Alex by the intensity of the nightmare. Hank had stayed with the still traumatized Jean all night, who hadn't let go of her rescuer, and he did his best to project comforting thoughts, careful to steer clear of thinking about his scientific work, for fear of projecting images of a laboratory. Sean brought in a good amount of food and water for him, and a plentiful plate of fruit for Jean for when she would wake up and feel like eating. Jean's nose had finally stopped bleeding after Emma had entered her mind and cracked open the mental prison the girl's telepathy had created. She was too scared to be left alone and thus clung onto Hank, her petite body periodically twitching in uncontrollable spasms. The exhausted girl finally fell asleep when the sun rose.   
  
~x~  
  
Charles woke up shocked to see Erik sleeping in a chair beside his bed, wearing a red metallic helmet with spiky antlers, and Raven fitfully asleep beside him on the bed. He spent a good while studying the striking helmet, which gave the boy an uncomfortably eerie feeling, and caused goose bumps to form all over his skin. It was unnerving to see the man in front of him, and not _feel_ him. He hoped Erik didn't plan on leaving the helmet on forever.   
  
The rumbling of his stomach broke Charles out of his thoughts, and he decided not to disturb his two guardians since they both looked very tired. He pulled up the sheet to better cover Raven and placed a spare blanket over Erik. An odd feeling began to nudge at him, and it wasn't the helmet. When he quietly made his way to the dining room, he knew for certain something was terribly off.   
  
_...don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think don't think..._  
 _  
_“Hey there, big guy. You feelin' hungry?”  
  
Angel sat alone at the dining table, drinking a large mug of coffee and flipping through a pile of magazines. She gave Charles a gentle smile, though her eyes remained anxious since she was not quite sure how she should interact with the boy this morning.  
  
The prospect of food brought a shy smile upon the boy's face, and he nodded eagerly as he subconsciously rubbed at his stomach. Angel wasted no time in clearing up the table and headed to the kitchen to whip up something light for Charles. The boy followed after her like a puppy to see if he could help with the preparations. He looked around, and the unease spread further through him when he noticed no one else was around.  
  
“W-where is everyone this morning? Are they not going to have breakfast?”  
  
“...i-it's actually past lunchtime already. Emma, Janos and Azazel won't be back for a few days, and everyone else is around the house somewhere, probably resting.”  
  
“I slept till the afternoon! ? No wonder I'm so hungry...”  
  
 _...don't let him find out think of something else clear my mind clear clear clear...  
  
_ Charles glanced dubiously at Angel while she made him a chicken sandwich. She was deliberately clearing her mind of something. Something he wasn't to know. It was the same as the thoughts he picked up while making his way to the dining room.   
  
Had he done something bad? Are they going to leave?   
  
“Why don't you get settled on the table, and I'll bring this over when it's done toasting. You want some juice? I think there's still some fresh apple juice in the fridge.”  
  
Of course they are... They all do.   
  
“...yes please.”  
  
He quickly turned away and ran to the table so that Angel would not see the tears building in his eyes.  
  
~x~   
  
Charles had had enough.  
  
As the day progressed, the tension in Charles' gut got progressively worse, and he was certain every everyone was either avoiding him or trying to hid something big from him. This was almost worse than those who had just left without a word.   
  
The thought of being alone now, so soon after what happened to his father, made his vision go blurry, and cause sharp bolts of pain to pierce throughout his body.   
  
If they were going to abandon him, why not just do it already? Why torment him?  
  
He slammed his bedroom door shut, startling both Erik and Raven awake. The level of rage on the boy's face was something neither had seen before.   
  
“Charles? What's-”  
  
The young telepath turned his furious blue eyes upon Raven, and trespassed directly into her mind with a thunderous force that no doubt caused the women quite a bit of pain. He was going to find out exactly what they were hiding from him. He was going to find out when they would all leave him. He was going to find-  
  
Charles' heart skipped a couple of beats at what he found.  
  
“No... No! ! I.... Jean.. Ororo! I-I've hurt them..”  
  
“Charles! It is not your fault! Do not blame yourself!”  
  
Erik wrapped his arms around the trembling and hyperventilating boy, and held him close.  
  
“But... I've hurt everyone! I-I'll never use it again! It's bad! Just like mama said, I'm a monster! !”  
  
“No, Charles! Listen to me, please! It was not your fault. You're telepathy is a gift. You are special and better than all those humans because of it. Never think that you are a monster. Those who intentionally reject and hurt us are the monsters.”  
  
“What if it happens again? I don't want to hurt anyone.”  
  
The desperation in Charles' face nearly ripped Erik's heart out. Always, Charles put other before him.  
  
“We grow stronger. We learn to control our powers. To master it. To live freely with it.”  
  
~x~  
  
For the rest of the day, Charles ran around the mansion, apologizing to everyone and offering as much help as he can.  
  
After making his apologies to Raven, he paid Jean long visit, who was thankfully awake, and taking in the food Hank handed to her. She assured Charles that she would be alright, and that she just needed a bit more rest. Charles was not fully convinced, but decided to give her the space she wanted. He will think of a way to make it up to her.   
  
Charles then found almost everyone else in Alex's room, adding the finishing touches to their restoration of the damaged wall. It was too late to help out, so he rushed to retrieve a tray of snacks and cools drinks for them. The boy burst into tears again when he noticed bandages around Ororo's arms and Sean's neck. Everyone surrounded the upset boy, and gave him a warm tight group hug, soothing away his sorrow and his anxiety that they would all want to leave him now.  
  
Erik looked on quietly from outside Alex's room. What he saw was a family. A family he would have liked to be part of, but he knew, that as things stand in the world outside, he could not be.  
  
~x~  
  
"You're not going to like it, but you'll want to know."  
  
Erik lifted an eye brow and and his insides tightened at Emma's words. This really can't be good.  
  
"Dr. Nathan Milbury, Project Leader of Black Womb... is merely an alias. One of many aliases actually. You've met him already, at Hellfire. We know him as Nathaniel Essex... Currently one of your strongest and richest allies..."  
  
The man sunk back into the leather seat, his mind racing, formulating and strategizing the best way to approach this matter. Knowing Emma, she would want to milk Essex for all he has, then await for the most opportune moment to destroy him. But how far was he willing to go against his own morals.  
  
"...there is a further matter. The other person in charge of Black Womb, an Amanda Mueller, she was the widow of Daniel Summers, the great great grandparents of-"  
  
“Alex and Scott...”  
  
"I believe Essex had a hand in the brothers' separation in foster care. I'm not one to probe into children's minds unnecessarily, but I know I will find him in Scott's memories. I'm also certain Mueller is mutant, and I wonder if Essex has taken particular interest in her bloodline."  
  
This was quite a lot to digest. The Summers' brothers genetic mutations go back generations, and a powerful and influential mutant has possibly sinister interests in them. If they do not confront Essex now, Erik has no doubt the man will go after the brothers again.   
  
“Have you told the brothers of this?”  
  
“Is it necessary that I do?”  
  
“...no, I will deal with it.”  
  
Emma then wordlessly placed a pile of sturdy but obviously old brown manila folders on the desk in front of Erik.  
  
"Here's all the files we managed to take today. The top two files will be of particular interest to you."  
  
She spoke with her usual cryptic and cool manner, studying her perfectly polished nails and generally acting as if everything she did was a finger's snap away. Which might be true most of the time. Without delay, Erik flipped open the first folder and gasped.  
  
 **Subject Name:** Marko, Cain.  
 **Status:** X-gene detected, dormant  
 **Abilities:** N/A  
 **Last Known** **Location:** Korea  
  
Charles' step brother. The boy who was abused by his human father. A human who lauded another's mutant child while despising his own because he thought his offspring was nothing special. Erik flipped open the second file to find the details of one of the other children that was experimented on.  
  
 **Subject Name:** Toynbee, Mortimer  
 **Status:** Mutant  
 **Abilities:** Advanced stamina, agility, flexibility, reflexes and strength. Amphibious qualities including: ability to leap great distances, prehensile tongue with acidic saliva. Signs of accelerated healing.   
**Last Known Location:** New Mexico, U.S.  
  
"These files are old. They could be dead."  
  
"They could be, but I thought you would want to see it. In any case, unless I am within range, I won't be able to detect them."  
  
"There is a way to broaden the search..."  
  
Alex and Scott, with some help from Logan when he was around, had finished excavating and expanding the underground bunker some days before. Erik was to help with the construction of Hank's redesigned Cerebro as soon as the materials arrived.  
  
"If you think I'm placing any type of a helmet device on my hair, you're sorely mistaken, sugar."  
  
Emma flipped her silky blonde hair and stalked out of the room, leaving Erik bemused and speechless at her exit. He then chuckled softly to himself. That was probably the closest he will get to friendly banter from the White Queen.  
  
~x~  
  
It was sometime after 2 a.m. when Erik finally had enough of reading through the files Emma given him concerning the Black Womb Project. Along with Essex and Mueller, there was now another name on Erik's blacklist. This one was human and obviously increasingly active in his stance against mutants. Erik will need to keep a close eye on this Colonel William Stryker.   
  
The man leaned back onto the leather chair, and massaged his eyes. Having gone without the helmet for a few months, it was giving him a killer migraine, and yet, he was nervous to remove it. For Erik, it wasn't the gruesome images of Charles' father being burnt alive that made him want to rip is brain out from his nostrils, but the images of the abused children. All those beatings the boy, Cain, received resonated strongly with him and it reminded him of how Shaw had been with him. In his conscious mind, Erik was unable to separate the images of Cain and himself during those beatings. He can feel his scars burning even right now.   
  
A slight shuffling noise snapped him to attention, and the man turned to find Charles, wrapped in his favorite comforter, peaking nervously from behind the door frame. When the boy noticed Erik's gray green eyes on him, he quickly ducked away and prepared to make a run back to his room.   
  
“Charles? It's alright. What are you doing still up at this hour?”  
  
Even under the minimal light, Erik could still make out the brightness within Charles large eyes.   
  
"I-I couldn’t sleep..."  
  
Erik held out his hand and beckoned the boy over. Charles gladly slipped his small hand into Erik's, returning to the study, and sat on the leather couch close together. The boy kept sneaking little peeks at Erik's head, and chewing at his lips. At least Erik figured it out faster this time. He promptly removed the helmet.  
  
“Sorry, it must be giving you a headache.”  
  
“Not really.. It feels odd. I can see you but not sense you. It makes me nervous.”  
  
For good measure, Erik projected equal amounts of apologetic and comforting vibes towards the boy.  
  
"I wish to ask you about your nightmare. If you don't want to talk about it though, you don't have to."  
  
Charles looked up, but instead of fear, Erik saw understanding.  
  
“It's fine, you can ask.”  
  
“Did you go into Kurt Marko's mind to see all that? Or...did he show you?”  
  
“Every time he comes around to visit mama, I would see things. His thoughts were very loud. I didn't really need to do anything. I could just see them.”  
  
“He's still never laid a hand on you right?”  
  
“No... Mr. Marko didn't even want them to do the tests on me. He.. actually cared for me, and I couldn't understand why he didn't care for Cain like that too. He tried to protect me there more than papa did, more than he did for his own son... why do you think he did that? To get on mama's good side? I know he wanted to be with mama... I think that's why he caused the fire.”  
  
Those last words slipped out of his mouth in a hissed whisper. Having seen this side of Charles earlier in the day, Erik was still caught off guard when the rage returned to the boy. Picking up on his shock, Charles went on.  
  
“It's true. I am angry. And I think I hate him.”  
  
Erik couldn't help but wonder how this boy before him found the strength to move past this hate and this anger. Was it because the man had died? But Raven had entered the household before Marko died, so it seemed Charles must have moved passed this beforehand. At least, this time round, Erik could be a pillar of support.  
  
“...a great man, a man I respect more than anyone else, once taught me that we are at our strongest when we can move beyond our anger. We are at our strongest when we find serenity within ourselves. How I wished I met this man earlier in my life..”  
  
Those azure eyes finally softened as he considered what Erik had shared with him.  
  
“Where is he now?”  
  
 _Right before me._  
  
“On a trip, far away.”  
  
“...a trip like father is on?”  
  
“No!... He is safe. I know he is.”  
  
 _I will make sure he is._  
  
And after what seemed like a lifetime to Erik, a warm, genuine smile finally graced Charles' soft porcelain face.   
  
“Thank you, Erik... I really like everyone, but I like you best."  
  
Erik knew the right answer was 'You shouldn't', but he wasn't strong enough to tear away that hope within the child. So instead he replied with the truth.  
  
“I like you best too, maus.”  
  
~x~  
  
 **Snapshot: The Boy and His Blankie.**  
  
Charles, aged 2 years and 7 weeks.  
  
Charles loves his blankie. He loves his blankie even more so than Loki, the sock bunny that seems to bring out the toddler's mischievous tendencies.  
  
Blankie means bed and bed means blankie. He won't fall asleep without a hand gripped tightly on the fuzzy pale green comforter that smells of his favorite guardian's odor. The few times the blankie had to be washed, the toddler's blue eyes filled with water, face contorted in disgust because the blankie smelled of fresh flowery cotton instead of sweaty manly musk. Erik was immediately called to do a few laps around the mansion in the dark so the blankie can soak up his pungent scent.  
  
Blankie also means the thumb. Nobody had noticed it at first, and really just assumed Charles, typical of many toddlers, liked to suck on his thumb while sleeping. However, things were never so easily explained when it came to Charles Xavier.  
  
After another exhausting battle in the bathroom with Charles, Erik finally had the warm drowsy boy in his cotton pajamas, and placed in the center of the kingsized bed, while he rubbed Charles' comforter all over himself to make sure the blankie gave Charles maximum comfort.  
  
The man knew Charles was one step away from a good night's sleep, and that step was the blankie. Charles tilted his little round head and looked at Erik in reverence. His large blue eyes always seemed to shine the brightest when he looked at Erik. A quarter way through wiping his face, Erik released a loud monstrous yawn that snapped Charles out of his dozy, hypnotized stated.  
  
"Erie, bed!"  
  
"Yes, maus. Bedtime for you."  
  
"Uh uh! Erie come bed! Here!"  
  
Charles knelt up by his miniature baby blue pillow dotted with little smiling white clouds and patted at it with a tiny hand for Erik to lay down. He looked up with earnest and expectant eyes at the disheveled man standing beside his oversized bed.  
  
Erik wonders at times whether Charles knows exactly how his bright piercing eyes can have him on all fours and eating out if a dog bowl. The powerless man indulges the true master of the house, and flopped down obediently onto the bed, his head almost the same size as the baby-sized pillow.  
  
As soon as Erik was laid on the bed, Charles got busy crawling all over him, in what seemed to be an ambitious attempt to tuck him in, and the result ended up being any part of his clothing that was remotely loose would be pulled and tucked under his weight.  
  
"Comfy, Erie?"  
  
Charles' expression was at his softest Erik has ever seen. Caring for others seemed to be the steady constant in Charles' personality. It was at the same time endearing and heartbreaking. For Erik, It would be during such moments when he would miss his old friend, yet at the same time not ready to let go of the toddler before him.  
  
"Yes, very. Thank you, maus."  
  
However, Charles was not yet satisfied. The boy looked up and down the rigidly bound man's body, and his little faint brows and little moist mouth twisted in dissatisfaction. Something was lacking... but what?  
  
Those shining blue orbs suddenly landed on something that made the boy gasp, then give a little victorious squeak. He tumbled over Erik's body towards the foot of the bed where Erik had left the blankie, only missing kneeing the wrapped man in the crotch by a hair. The boy then imitated Erik with a thorough blankie wiping ritual, after which the boy took a long deep inhale of the blankie, savoring the musk he so adores, and with just a little hint of reluctance, he graciously lent his blankie to Erik and placed it over the man.  
  
"There! All tuck'in!"  
  
After another minute, Charles' little red lips twisted again in concern. He studied Erik's face and wondered what else could be missing. One of his little stubbly hand mindlessly caressed his blankie, and the texture triggered his other hand to fist together with his little nubby thumb to protrude upwards, ready to enter the boy's mouth. Charles looked back and forth between thumb and Erik's slightly worried mouth, and snortled.  
  
"Erie, aaaahh..."  
  
"Maus, I'm quite alrig-"  
  
Charles flew his tiny thumb towards Erik's mouth, making excited swooshing noises for encouragement.  
  
"Charles, it's-"  
  
"Ssshhhhh..."  
  
Charles shut the man up by sticking his thumb right into his mouth, and patting his cheek with his free hand.  
  
"Sshh.. bedtime Erie, I tell you sorie... Once 'pon time, far far far way..."  
  
Erik couldn't quite make sense which fairy tale Charles was telling him, but the down on her luck princess sounded sure like Jean with her not-so-little crush on the oblivious Scott.   
  
A few minutes into his story, Charles' speech began to slur, and his head began to droop. Instinctively, the thumb that was not in Erik's mouth went into its' rightful owner, and Charles slowly maneuvered himself so that he snuggled right up under Erik's sturdy shoulder. His other thumb slowly slipped out of Erik's mouth as the boy's arm gave way. His sleep-heavy eyelids fluttered slower and slower, until finally the boy went into slumber.  
  
Erik felt at peace. A peace he doesn't think he deserved, but he couldn't leave the room. Not yet... Just a few more minutes... He turned to look at the angel sound asleep next to him and his heart melted just that little bit. Without looking away from his angel, he floated a random piece of metal to close the door and shut off the lights. Erik didn't want to be anywhere else tonight.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW: I have a question for those who post on FF. Have you ever had a story deleted by FF? Just discovered one of my fav authors in a different fandom had a few stories deleted, and so I got researching realized (since I don't actually read the rules and guidelines, I just click accept and tell the site to hurry the bloody hell up) explicit content is NOT allowed. Some of my other stories will count as explicit or MA under FF guidelines. There are plenty of quite explicit stories on this site, so I'm kinda confused here.


	9. Seven and Something Looming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the awesome reviews, alerts/favs/kudos and the comments about FF question. Sorry, I think I missed my weekly deadline again, the week just flew by. A bit of a cliffy end today, and it will be explained in the next chapter :)

When Charles thought no one was watching, his gaze would wonder off into the distance, a dull blankness filled his eyes. But the truth was, it was more painful to see him hide his pain when someone was around.   
  
~x~  
  
"Charles? Wha'cha doin'?"  
  
Alex had come into the kitchen to grab a drink, and found the large marble bench top covered with bowls, pots and an array of ingredients. Charles stood on top of a step ladder, staring at a book at if it was the most intriguing and complex problem on Earth. His vivid baby blues snapped up at the sound of Alex's voice and immediately slammed the big, thick book shut.  
  
"Nooothing.."  
  
Charles, at this age, was not a very good liar. His cheeks and ear lobes began to burn, and his eyes looked everywhere expect at Alex, all that was missing was some whistling. Charles obviously wanted to do this himself, so Alex didn't question any further.  
  
"Alright, little man. If you need any help. I'll be out back."  
  
"O-okay."  
  
The man takes a large jug of water and some snacks then heads outside, not missing the gratefulness within those shining eyes.  
  
~  
  
Not being of much further help for Hank with Cerebro, Alex had been spending his days outside, practicing his precision by disintegrating the piles of earth that had been excavated in order to build Cerebro. The temperature had been dropping by the day, and nearly all the leaves have now turned red or brown, even with Ororo's attempt to keep the air a few degrees warmer than the rest of the area. Nonetheless, the vast garden with its muted colors was still a spectacular sight, giving Alex this sense of focused tranquility. He had been working on the control over his powers without the suit Hank designed to help focus the cosmic energy, and progress had been slow. Yet, just like Charles had taught him, frustration hindered his control, so really, he was working on two matters.   
  
"...Alex?"  
  
A tiny, unsure voice called out from behind him. Alex turned to find Charles covered in what he assumed is flour. Charles stood with his hands nervously playing at the hem of his sweater, head down cast and but lips protruding in an obvious pout. The blonde man immediately wanted to just collect the boy into his arms and hold him until all his insecurities and pain had melted away  
  
"Need help?"  
  
His little head snapped up, large blue saucers of eyes catching the early afternoon light. Alex hadn't seen that eagerness in days.   
  
"Yes, please."  
  
"I'd be glad to. Come on, show me the progress you've already made."  
  
Charles jumped in joy and led Alex back to the kitchen with a skip in his little energetic steps.  
  
"I managed to find almost all the things the book said I need. I found lots of soda, but none of them were baking flavor, do you think the brown soda will work? And..."  
  
The toddler talked a mile a minute, and Alex just smiled and followed after him, half confused about exactly what the boy was detailing to him.   
  
Turns out, Charles had been attempting to made red velvet cupcakes for everyone, or more specifically for Jean, who, as Charles explained, had mentioned she had always wanted to try red velvet but had never had the privilege to. He had indeed found almost all the ingredients listed, although he confused baking soda with the drinking soda, and buttermilk with butter mixed with milk. Also, he couldn't decide which cup he should use to measure 'a cup', since the cabinets were filled with cups ranging in a variety of shapes and sizes.   
  
Good thing Alex had picked up a few baking tips here and there over the years, and did a bit of baking here when he had a hankering for homemade dessert, usually in the middle of the night, so he knew where the necessary tools and utensils were kept, and how to make substitute buttermilk, since they had none. The next half hour was perhaps the most fun the two have had together in a long time, and certainly the first time since the nightmare Alex had seen Charles truly letting himself enjoy his time.  
  
But it didn't last. As they sat on stools in front of the oven, watching the heat do its magic on the batter, Charles' smile slowly faded, and it was as if a blank veil covered and masked his face.  
  
“...do you think this will make everyone happy? Make everyone forgive me?”  
  
Alex doesn't know for how many beats his heart had stopped. He immediately slid, ungracefully, down from the stool, and knelt in front of the still guilt ridden boy.   
  
"Charles... Listen to me. You have to trust me when I say none of us blame you for what happened. You were... you _are_ going through a terrible time, and we understand.”  
  
"But it's my fault that I can't control it."  
  
"You'll learn. We all have to. Heck, I'm still learning... You don't want to be like me, living most of my life in fear of my own powers because I didn't know how to control it. For a long time, I thought it was impossible to control it until... someone very dear to me placed faith in that I could."  
  
"Scott?"  
  
"Not Scott, but he may as well be our family. He... is the father figure that I'd never dreamed of having.”  
  
At the mention of the word father, Charles' little hands fist tightly together, face a picture of sorrow.   
  
“W-what happened to your real father?”  
  
“Our parents died when Scott was just a baby, and I was a little older than you are now.”  
  
“Does it get any easier? Do you think about them? I-I don't want to forget papa..”  
  
“You'll never forget your papa. I know it hurts right now, but it will get easier. And yes, I do think about my parents from time to time, but I try to think of them with happy thoughts. That's a better way to honor them, don't you think?”  
  
Something changes within Charles, and it almost looks like a bit of weight had been lifted off his small heavy shoulders.  
  
“You had to look after Scott by yourself?”  
  
He knows Charles didn't mean to dig up his old wounds, but this was something Alex was still trying to get over himself.  
  
“We... lived in an orphanage together for a few years until Scott was adopted. Then I was swapped between orphanages and foster homes, then later juvie and prison... I was so angry when they took Scott from me. He was all I had left in the world. So I lashed out. I was selfish and short sighted. I didn't think that what I was doing was just pushing the chances of getting Scott back further out of my reach. Then..yo- _He_ found me. He saw beyond the anger and all my stupidity. He saved me and helped me find Scott. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay him, but I'm gonna help him save as many children and those like us as I can."  
  
Alex didn't realize his tears until a warm, flour covered hand wiped at his cheek.  
  
"Where is he now?"  
  
"H-he's around, helping others discover themselves."  
  
In front of anyone else, Alex would have been too embarrassed about all the emotion in his broken voice, but Charles as child had this way of bringing out one's vulnerability, one's rawness.  
  
"So how about it little man? Let's grow stronger together. And no more guilt about that night, okay?"  
  
Charles looked right back into Alex's eyes and considered carefully. The man knew the exactly moment when Charles had reached the right decision. His blue eyes softened, somehow shining brighter, and finally a small genuine and relieved smile formed.  
  
~x~  
  
Erik had been busy with helping Hank with the construction of Cerebro. The materials had arrived a few days ago, and they immediately got to work. Scott had also been called on to help. With the visors Hank designed for him to help focus his optical blasts, that could be set at different levels of concentrations and strength, Scott was perfectly suited to help with this job.   
  
Today was the first time Erik and Scott were left alone in the extended bunker, and the elder could no longer resist bringing the subject up.  
  
“Scott, can I ask you something... about your family?”  
  
“You mean Alex?”  
  
“Well no, I mean your parents, or grandparents...”  
  
“Well, my parents died in a plane crash when I was a baby. I don't remember them really.. just what Alex tells me and the one photo of the four of us.”  
  
“I'm sorry...”  
  
“Don't be... Compared to everyone else, I had a pretty decent upbringing. At the orphanage, I had Alex, then I got adopted into a decent family who were good to me. When I manifested, I blew out half the roof... they didn't kick me out, and I kept my eyes tightly shut until this doctor gave me the glasses with ruby quartz lenses-”  
  
 _Doctor._  
  
“Do you remember the name of this doctor?”  
  
“Ugghh.. Essex I think... Why?”  
  
Emma was right. Essex had been keeping an eye on Scott. But for what? He'll need to deal with the man sooner rather than later.  
  
“Well, it's always good to know if there are doctors out there who are willing to help us.”  
  
Scott didn't look convinced at Erik's explanation, but said nothing.  
  
“Why did you leave that family, if they were good to you?”  
  
“When I got the call.. when I learned that Alex was searching for me.. I couldn't... I had to at least meet him. And when I found out he was a mutant too, that everyone here were mutants, I knew this was where I belonged.”  
  
“It's true. This is a good place for you and Alex.”  
  
“Can you promise to let this place remain a safe place for us? For those of us who don't agree with you?”  
  
It was a curve ball Erik had not expected to come from the young man next to him. It was also the first time he had seen such intensity in his expression.   
  
“I may not agree with Charles on many things, but I respect and admire what he wishes to do here. I will do everything within my power to allow this place to flourish.”  
  
Before Scott had the chance to fully digest what Erik had just said, Charles ran into the extended bunker, breathless.  
  
“Huh huh...Erik, Scott? Can you both please.. huh.. come to the dining table?”  
  
~x~  
  
Everyone had gathered around the dining table, pleasantly surprised at the plates of delicious looking buttercream frosted cupcakes. Charles got busy pulling out the chairs for everyone, ushering them to sit down for their treat.   
  
“Charles? Is this-”  
  
Jean looked bewildered.   
  
“It's red velvet cupcakes! You said you wanted to try them.”  
  
She didn't know what to say. She had only mentioned it once in passing, and thought nobody had heard.   
“You made it for us?”  
  
Charles blushed a deep red, and drew circles with a foot, head cast downward in shyness from all the attention.  
  
“A-Alex did most of the work.”  
  
Everyone waited for Jean to take the first the first bite, and by the way she munched down on it, the cupcake tasted as good as it looked.   
  
“It's delicious. Thank you Charles, Alex.”  
  
Jean ran over to Charles and gave the boy a little peck on his still reddened cheek, making Charles's while face burn a vivid red to rival Azazel.   
  
And for the first time this week, the atmosphere among everyone was finally genuinely relaxed and brightened.   
  
~x~  
  
The construction of Cerebro was going smoothly, and it had been at the forefront of Hank's priorities for the time being. He had not spent quiet and isolated time in the laboratory for days, and he was yearning for it. But what he missed even more, was Charles' presence here. Of course, he knew why Charles still could not step back in here. It must remind the child so much of his father.   
  
Even though Charles was now certain no one blamed him for that horrible night, his moments of zoning out had increased in its frequency. Moreover, he was unmistakably avoiding not only laboratory, but anything that hinted of his father's work. The laboratory had been one of Charles' most favorite places in the mansion, where he would either quietly sit and watch Hank at work, or he would become the his little eager helper. The room just felt too cold without Charles.   
  
So obviously, Hank nearly jumped out of his skin when his leg bumped into something warm that was hiding under the table.   
  
“Charles? What are you doing down here? Are you alrig-”  
  
Hank bit on his tongue to stop himself from asking whether the boy was alright. Of course he wasn't.  
  
“May I join you?”  
  
A little silent nod was enough of an invitation for the blue furred man. The space was a tight fit, but as Charles snuggles up to him for comfort, Hank found the squeeze comforting as well.  
  
“Do you want to tell me what's on your mind?”  
  
“...I wanted to think of papa... Mother has been spending lots of time with Mr. Marko. Alex said that I would never forget papa, but... but I think mother has already forgotten him...”  
  
Hank had to be careful what he said. He knew full well his ability to say the absolute wrong things at the wrong time.   
  
“I don't think I can say anything to make you feel better, but I don't think your mother will ever forget your father either. Everyone has different ways of dealing with pain, and I think this is her way of moving on.”   
  
“Do you think I'm being selfish in not wanting mother to move on?”  
  
“No! You're dealing with your pain, and it's alright for you not to want to see your mother be with another man.”  
  
Charles went quiet for a good while before finally speaking again.  
  
“...I miss being in here. Can I still be your helper sometimes?”  
  
“Of course you can. Anytime you want.”  
  
“Now?”  
  
Hank chuckled, making his fur do a little swaying dance. He was just going to do a bit of cleaning up and triple check everything with the pressure chamber for Charles session tomorrow.  
  
“If you don't mind doing some boring cleaning.”  
  
Charles didn't mind. He was elated to have something to do to keep his mind off what was happening with his family.   
  
~x~  
  
"I can't do it, Erik! I can't be like that man you respect. I don't want a new father. Not him! I'm sorry, but I just can't not hate him.."  
  
Everyone had been on walking tenterhooks around Charles since he turned seven. Charles had once mentioned in passing to Raven that his mother remarried about a year after his father had died. He had been reluctant to come out of his room, and resolutely refused to eat at the dining table for fear of having to see his mother or Kurt Marko.   
  
Charles had burst into the study where he knew Erik would be, and ran under the desk, crawling tightly within himself.   
  
"Oohh, Charles.." Erik pushed the large leather chair away and sat down on the ground with the trembling boy.   
  
“You don't have to be anyone you don't want to be. But not every great man starts out as great. Greatness is built up. That man was once just like you...”  
  
“But I-I'm angry...at him and at mother. I can see it in her mind. She expects me to call him father. She wants to replace papa with him. Why?”  
  
“Perhaps because she think it is best for you to have a father figure.”  
  
“Not him! ! C-can't you talk to her? Tell her he's not good! She never listens to me, perhaps she'll listen to you?”  
  
“I...we can't.. We're not-”  
  
The last time Erik had seen such despair in Charles was that day on the Cuban beach. It had tore a hole in his soul that day nearly two years ago, but now, having gotten to know Charles like this, to have met the vulnerable being behind the surprisingly tough exterior, it was indescribable how it made Erik feel to fail him. Again.  
  
“....I see..”  
  
“Charles, please know what it is not that none of us don't want to, with all our hearts, help you. But we are unable to interfere. There are certain things in your life that will happen, and all we can do is support you throughout them.”  
  
"...does this have to do with why are you all never around when mother and Mr. Marko are? And they are never here when you are?"  
  
Eric wondered when Charles would begin to piece things together. He just wished it wasn't under such circumstances.   
  
“I can't fully explain why, but yes.”  
  
Charles looked smaller than ever huddled within himself. He chewed at his lips, and held back his tears, accepting that he must face certain things alone.   
  
~x~  
  
"Coming!"  
  
Sean ran to the door, mind half going through the myriad of things he needed to get done today, and half wonder who it could be at the door. It couldn't be Logan. The man didn't know how to use door bells, just bangs at the door until someone let's him in.  
  
It would be an understatement to say that it turned out to be the last person he expected to see when he opened the door.  
  
"Good morning. My name is Moira MacTarggert, and I work for the CIA. I'm looking for a Professor Charles Xavier. Is he around?"  
  
~  
  
Sean found Raven in the library with Erik, Janos and Hank. He silently thanked God that Charles had asked to join Angel and Ororo on their turn with the groceries, needing some time away from the house. Things would have been a little complicated if he were around for this.  
  
"Raven! I need you to shift into Charles as an adult. Moira is here to talk to 'Professor Xavier'."  
  
Before Raven could get over the shock of not only Sean's request but also hearing the familiar name, Erik had cut in, voice oozing with rage.  
  
"What the hell is she doing here?"  
  
Erik stormed towards the door, eager to kick that woman out of the house, only to have Sean and Hank step in his way> The redhead's expression was a level of fury Erik had not seen in the man before.   
  
"Back down!"  
  
It was the first time Sean had spoken so harshly to Erik, or anyone since they've known him for that matter, and everyone in the room went silent. Ever since Erik and the others had came back to the mansion, Sean had always been the friendlier and more accepting of the three adult men.   
  
"Look, Charles wiped all of Moira's memories of us. She's here now, either because she's somehow regained her memories, which looks unlikely, since she had no clue who I was. Or-”  
  
“She's come into contact with mutants.”  
  
Raven finished Sean's sentence. After all, she had been there the night Moira sought out Charles, and changed all their lives. If the human has come into contact with more mutants, Raven was not going to sit idly by.  
  
“What do you need me to do?”  
  
~  
  
“Professor Xavier, thank you for meeting me. Moira MacTarggert.”  
  
“Ms MacTaggert, a pleasure. Sean tells me you work for the CIA.”  
  
Sean felt the hairs on his arms raise as he watches Raven act exactly like her brother. This Charles was the Charles who recruited him at the aquarium. Before Cuba, before all the loss, before the shadows around his eyes.   
  
“Yes, that's correct. I'll cut to the point. The kind of mutations you talked about in your thesis, I need to know if they may have already happened... in people alive today.”  
  
Even though the people who would find those words eerily familiar would not remember at this moment, history invariably finds a way to repeat itself.  
  
~x~  
  
 **Snapshot: The Wolverine and the Mouse**  
  
...I got a bit carried away with this snapshot. Have to say, Logan is always so fun to write, and I'm not even that big of a Wolverine fan.  
  
This week's snapshot is influenced by one of only three things I remember from the X1 movie; The Wolver-claw-finger. The other two things I remember was how hot and naked Mystique is, and how Anna Paquin (as much as I loved her in The Piano and her scenes with Pam in True Blood) was so not the Rogue I wanted to see.  
  
~  
  
Charles, aged 2 and 9 weeks  
  
Logan Howlett is a bad influence on children. First it was Scott and his sudden fascination with smoking and alcohol, then came Ororo who started to brush off those with whom she disagreed with a flip of her hand, and lastly was Jean who picked up his rough language.  
  
So naturally, Erik would rather be castrated than leave Charles alone with the fowl-mouthed, cigar smoking, finger pointing monstrosity of a man.  
  
"What? The kids need some toughing up, I can hear you thinking it. Besides, chuckles here is right up there with me with his swearing, ain't ya lil' bub."  
  
Charles may as well have purred when stretched his neck into Logan's hand roughing up his silky soft curls, exhaling a thick puff of his Cuban for good measure. Erik, being the total mother hen that he is when it comes to the toddler held within his lean arms, he quickly turned his body away so Charles would not inhale the smoke.  
  
Erik was certain now that leaving Charles in Logan's care, even for a second, was not an option.  
  
Of all the days for Emma to find another mutant research facility, one with complex scientific technology requiring Hank to decipher, it had to be the day Alex, Sean and Raven took the other children on a day out at the movies to see the new Bond movie, From Russia with Love.  
  
Earlier in the say, matters on Emma's front seemed to be under control, so Erik encouraged Raven to head out with the others, leaving the man thinking it would be a nice quiet day, or as quiet it can be with Charles, just the two of them.  
  
The day started to go downhill when Logan banged on the door and woke Charles up from his afternoon nap. A cranky Charles was bad enough, but a cranky Charles with nearly an empty house was like dragging your ass, dog style, across sandpaper, the super rough kind. Nothing short of freshly baked apple and custard pie would soothe him.  
  
At least Logan thought to bring Charles a little gift this time, which gave the toddler enough of a distraction while Erik prayed there was enough ingredients left to whip out a makeshift apple crumble. Not comfortable with leaving the toddler alone with the burly man, Erik demanded they go to the kitchen too, so he could keep an eye on them (read Logan) but Charles had already crawled half way up Logan's leg in search of his promised gift.  
  
Of course, Erik should have known the gift would be completely inappropriate, as he would find out when Charles ran into the kitchen halfway through his crushing of leftover oat cookies and slightly stale digestives.  
  
"Erie! Look! Logan gimme sorie book! Can read to me for bedtime?"  
  
"You got a new book, did you? Sure I'll read it to yo-"  
  
...  
  
Erik could not believe what he saw within Charles' innocent, angelic, little milky white hands.  
  
A fucking Play fucking Boy!  
  
"Logan! ! !"  
  
Erik stormed into the lounge, one arm holding a ecstatic Charles, the other waving the meat tenderizer he was just using to mash the cookies.  
  
"What the fuck were you thinkin-"  
  
Suddenly, Azazel appeared in a cloud of black ash, sporting scrapes here and there, his well tailored suit in tatters, his breathing short and labored. When his eyes landed on Logan, he let out a relieved sigh and grabbed Charles out of the furious man's arm, gave the boy a quick kiss on the forehead and made his apologies, then practically threw him into Logan's thick muscular arms.  
  
"Come, comrade. We need you."  
  
"Wai-"  
  
In a puff of sulfuric smoke, they were gone and the house went densely silent.  
  
To Logan's credit, he immediately acted to cheer Charles up before the boy had a chance to wobble his lips.  
  
"Ready, chuckles? You and I are gonna have some real fun."  
  
~x~  
  
Logan's idea of fun meant lounging in front of the television, surrounded by booze and snacks. Of course, just to prove to the man who can't seem to cut his umbilical cord already, Logan threw in a few rounds of playtime with Charles. It was during one such round when Logan's ultra sensitive nose picked up a fowl smell wafting from Charles' nappy clad bottom.   
  
“Alright, chuckles. Tell me you know how to handle that.”  
  
The burly man pinched his nose with one hand and dangled Charles at a distance with the other using his adamantium claws, just to add a tiny bit more distance. Charles giggled and squeaked uncontrollably, loving the feeling of swinging around in midair.   
  
Logan spent all of the next five minutes looking for clean diapers before giving up and letting Charles run around free and butt naked.  
  
“No pee pee on the carpet, alright? You wanna go, you let me know, okay?”  
  
“Kay!”  
  
Charles ran around totally nude and enjoying the cool air on his body until he got bored and cold. He then climbed up onto Logan's lap to join him in watching the movie on the television. Just as the movie was getting to the best part, Charles tugged at Logan's plaid flannel shirt, little legs tucked close together.  
  
“Logan.”  
  
“Hold on, chuckles, this is getting to the good stuff.”  
  
“...Logan!”  
  
“Sshhhh....”  
  
He was too absorbed in what was happening on the television to notice the toddler shiver and release a relieved sigh. The man finally realized what had happened when he felt warm wetness seep through his shirt and jeans. Logan looked down at an abashed and hunched Charles, eyes wide and pout at maximum.  
  
“Alright. It was my fault.”  
  
~  
  
Logan decided he may as well take a bath, and clean Charles up while he was at it. When he was fully undressed, Charles went oddly quiet and studied Logan with a seriousness that unnerved the man. The child then point at his manhood and exclaimed with excitement.  
  
"Erie Bigga!"  
  
Oh no he di'int!   
  
The alloy that made up the man's skeleton almost cracked. Logan crouched down slowly, leveling his fierce gaze right into those exuberant orbs, gritting his mouth tightly shut so that he doesn't growl.  
  
"Listen closely, chuckles, this is one lesson in life you'll wanna learn early. Never. Ever. Tell a man that someone else's is bigger. Never, you understand?”  
  
Charles stared back, then nodded in understanding, or at least Logan hoped so.  
  
“No more Erie bigga, and Teddy more bigga?”  
  
Wait, what? That nerdy dweeb? There is no way that... Wait.  
  
“Is it blue?”  
  
And on that note, is that teleporter's red?  
  
~x~  
  
Charles' pout was in full force at the door. This glistening puppy eyes could drill through adamantium.  
  
"Whoa there, chuckles. What did I teach ya?"  
  
"...no boo boo face when bye bye?"  
  
"That's right, buddy. You're a big boy now, no boo boo face."  
  
His sad pout slowly morphed into his determined pout, and the boy lifted up his tiny closed fist, in what Erik thought was to wave good bye. Erik aura of golden beaming pride was then shattered when Charles's fist did the indescribable.  
  
Hank dropped and broke his mug when he passed by at the most inopportune moment to witness the toddler waving his little middle finger at Logan.  
  
"That'a boy!"  
  
Logan slowly extracted his middle adamantium claw and waved back.  
  
Erik had no words. He just slammed the door shut.  
  
A single, manly, testosterone filled tear formed at the tip of one of Logan's eyes as the man sauntered towards his truck confident he had just made the world a better place.  
  
A little while later, Hank spilled hot coffee all over himself when he spotted a Playboy magazine abandoned in one corner of the kitchen floor.


	10. Eight and Danger Knocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so much for the all the support and encouragement from the reviews, kudos/favs/alerts, it's the Fruity Loops that wakes me up in the mornings!   
> Guh...I kinda got the character I'm introducing in this chapter mixed up with another character, so I had to re-plan a big chunk of the chapter, hope it doesn't feel too forced :S
> 
> Happy Halloween ya'll! Here's an awful attempt at the festive theme. And...another cliffy! I'm enjoying ending with cliffies (sorry to those who don't like them), it gets my adrenaline pumping to get the next chapter planned and at least 1/4 written straight away ;)
> 
> Warnings: Child abuse/torture, neglect.

“Shit shit shit crap shit...”  
  
Sean ran back to the kitchen, cursing at himself for his stupidity. His mind had been so preoccupied, he had completely forgotten he'd left the stove on, for hours. The house had been mostly empty this afternoon, so it was unlikely anyone had passed by to turn it off. So the red haired man was beyond surprised to find it turned off, and the stew for the night's dinner saved.  
  
“Huh.”  
  
The relieved man thought nothing further about the stove since his mind was still reeling from the events of the day before...  
  
~  
  
“Do mutants as you described in your thesis exist among us today, Professor Xavier?”  
  
It was just the four of them in the formal sitting room. Professor Xavier and Erik sat on the lavish velvet covered couch opposite Moira, and Sean sitting down next to her after he'd swiftly bought in some cups and a jug of water.  
  
“...well, if you keep up with the news, Agent MacTaggert, you'd know all about them won't you?”  
  
“You mean the so called Brotherhood of Evil Mutants? I'm certain that's just newspapers making up headlines. Something to scare the public about after the Cuban Missiles... right?”  
  
“And... here you are, asking questions about the existence of mutants.”  
  
Moira's shoulders slumped and she looked more fragile and lost then anyone in the room had ever seen her.  
  
“Look, the truth is, I don't know who or what the Brotherhood is, and quite frankly right now, I'm not concerned with them. I'm concerned about the life of a young man. Are you able to help me, Professor?”  
  
Raven looked around the room, momentarily flustered. The tension in the room transformed from wary anguish towards an outsider to anxiety for a young life. Without Emma around, and she wouldn't this of Jean, they had no way of just retrieving the information out of the human's head. She needed the human's trust, and the fastest way to get it now was to shift.  
  
It was not the first time Raven had seen that face full of disbelieving awe. At least, it wasn't fear or hatred. And that certain realization caused no little amount of unease to settle within the shifter. There are humans who not only do not harbor hatred towards them, but want to help them. How does this sit with Erik's ideals?  
  
“...as you can see, Agent MacTaggert, mutant safety is my top priority. Please, tell me what you know.”  
  
Moira's eye were wide, mouth agape but speechless, as she sat there and faced 'herself'. It took her brain a few seconds to catch up, and once it did, she immediately snapped out of it. That was what Moira MacTaggert was good at, functioning under pressure.   
  
“I-I've been... undercover at Worthington Industries for the last half year for... classified reasons. A few weeks in, I hear these rumors about how the young Worthington heir was restricted to bed with illness, then it was about some deformity that happened overnight. When my access increased, I was able to freely enter the Worthington estate, and I saw him.”  
  
Moira had her eyes closed, but her hands were clasped tightly, and they were trembling.  
  
“He was so ghastly pale, and, and so _frightened_. The room had hardly any light, but I could still make out this growth on his back, and it was moving... He looked like he was in a lot of pain, so I thought I'd check it out. When I lifted up his shirt...h-his torso was bound by these leather straps. They were wings... He had wings.. But they were in such horrible shape, hardly any feathers on them. I knew with all the connections the Worthingtons had, calling social services wasn't going to help. So, I've been keeping an eye on him, visiting him whenever I could... Last week, I found out they're planning medical procedures.. to remove Warren's wings...”  
  
The woman ran her hands through her face, and chuckled bitterly.  
  
“You know... saying all this out loud.. I don't really know why I came to find you.. I'm not sure what I hope for you to do. Warren's being tortured alive, and I can't do a thing about it.”   
  
“ _We_ can, and _we_ will.”  
  
Erik spoke for the first time since he entered the room. His gray-green eyes were cold towards the overwrought woman. He lifted his hand to call for his red helmet, which came flying out of nowhere. Moira tilted her head, there was something so familiar about that helmet. She has definitely seen it somewhere before.  
  
“Azazel!”  
  
In a silent puff of black smoke with a strong sulfuric smell, a man appeared with blood red skin and a tail straight out of some demonic story, dressed in a sharply tailored suit. Suddenly, it all made sense to Moira, that helmet, this red skinned teleporter.  
  
"You're all... Oh my God! You're the Brotherhood! I-I can have you all arrested!"  
  
Moira not so subtly reached for her gun. The only person who looked panicked was Sean, and it was because he truly feared for the woman's life.  
  
"Go on. Pull the trigger."  
  
Moira stood her ground, her gun pointed unwaveringly at the menacing man only a few feet away, who was now supported by the red skinned man and her mirror image. Of course her brain connected the dots three seconds too late, and she felt like an utter fool pointing her weapon at a man who can control metal. But she wasn't one to back down.   
  
"Stop! ! What the hell is wrong with you all!? Have you forgotten there's a life at stake? A mutant's life, Erik! So back the fuck down! All of you!"   
  
"We do not need her to save the boy."  
  
For the second time in under an hour, Sean is forced to a level of rage he didn't like knowing he had within him.  
  
"You cannot seriously be that shortsighted! You're, what? Going to kidnap the boy? Then what? Have you considered that if Moira can find us, then how about billionaires who can afford the full force of say, the CIA? You're seriously going to put a target on all of us? On the children? _On Charles_?"  
  
At the mention of Charles, Erik's hardened resolve faltered, and he remembered what he had promised Scott only days before. The mansion was to be off limits... But then again, getting rid of this human right now would still fulfill that promise.  
  
Sean then turned to face Moira, face equally angry mixed with disappointment.  
  
"Moi- Agent MacTaggert, lower your weapon now! You will only end up hurting yourself... Please, there are children watching."  
  
Moira's gaze followed Sean's, landing on a terrified little girl with vibrant red hair, hiding behind a man with blue fur and golden eyes, and a teenage boy with a type of visor straight out of some science fiction novel. There was such terror within the little girl's eyes and Moira felt her insides knot when she realized the fear within the little girl's eyes was directed at her. That here, she was the monster. The man before her was right. She came here to try help a child, not make enemies.  
  
"I-I'm sorry, please forgive me.”  
  
Moira lifted her arms in surrender, and swiftly placed her gun back into its hidden halter at the back of her waist, under her blazer. Her guilt ridden gaze remained on the children, particularly on Scott, who she guess was only a few years older than Warren.   
  
"You seem to have a better plan than to have Azazel retrieve the boy right this moment. Explain."  
  
Erik did not release his hidden hold over the woman's gun. He was not going to let his guard down in front of a human. Especially this one.  
  
“Please, hear me out. Charles had been making arrangements to turn the mansion into an institute for mutants, 'The Gifted' he liked say. We've been trying to obtain the necessary certificates and licenses, but the process has been extremely slow.”  
  
“And this helps Warren how?”  
  
“The scope of a few of the certificates was to allow us to act as a boarding school, as well as an orphanage. I'm thinking if the institute becomes legit in the very near future, and we also work out a way to delay his operation, we may be able to... convince the Worthingtons to have Warren attend our school, where he can flourish among his own kind, and be well educated, as well as protected.”  
  
“You think I might be able to get you those papers sooner?”  
  
“That would be preferable, if you are willing.”  
  
“And say that you do get the papers soon, how were you planning on delaying the operation, not to mention convince these very old fashioned people that their son does not have some freakish deformity, and that he should attend this school that popped up out of nowhere.”   
  
“We are all mutants here. All of us with different gifts. We have our ways. But I will assure you it will involve minimal disturbance, very low profile.”  
  
It wasn't how Charles would have liked to recruit students, but in this particular case, Sean had to admit, they will likely need telepathic influence.   
  
Under most other circumstances, Erik would have rolled his eyes at Sean's obvious jab at their rather public _work_ , but he had to admit, keeping things low key for the time being was the best way forward for mansion and the under prepared children.  
  
~  
  
“...I'll see what I can do. We'll be in touch Mr. Cassidy.”  
  
“...Thank you... for trying to help him, Agent MacTaggert.”  
  
Moira gave the man who conducted himself much more maturely than he looked a bittersweet smile, there was something about him and this whole place that was so familiar, and that slightly haunted look on his face only added to her perplexity.   
  
Outside, Angel was busy unloading bags of groceries from the trunk of the car with Ororo's help. She does not notice the large heavy front doors opening to reveal a previous acquaintance turned enemy. Charles huddled a large brown paper bag of groceries, nearly half his own size, and waddled towards the door.  
  
“Thank you, Charles. Can you also go inside and fetch some more help?”  
  
“...okay..”  
  
The little boy was distracted by the new face walking out of the door in front of Sean.  
  
“Charles? What's-”  
  
Angel froze. She couldn't decide whether to aim a round of acidic spit at the woman or take off in flight. Was she here to take them away? Had Alex or one of the others called them in? Angel watched Moira walking towards Charles, and she automatically went into defensive mode, only to be stopped by Erik's looming presence at the door, his hand gesturing subtly for her to stand down and keep quiet.  
  
“Hi, I'm Moira. Would you like some help with that?”  
  
“Hullo, I'm Charles. I can handle this, thank you.”  
  
The woman was at once charmed by the little boy before her, and also surprised at his name.  
  
 _'His son? They sure do look alike.'  
  
_ “Charles, did you have a good time out with Angel and Ro?”  
  
Sean stepped in before things get anymore tense or awkward.  
  
“Yeah! We had pizza and cola! The pizza slice was huge, bigger than my face! We had to fold it to eat!”  
  
“Really? You're gonna have to tell us in more detail later. I'm going to see Miss Moira here to her car, and I'll be right back to help you with the bags.”  
  
“Okay! Good bye Miss Moira. Nice to meet you.”  
  
“It's very nice to meet you Charles.”  
  
She observes the lively boy being greeted with warmth by the man who can manipulate metal, and the man looked nothing like the dangerous terrorist she had pointed a gun at not long before. He had in one arm Charles' grocery bag and in the other the boy himself, smiling adoringly up at his larger friend, gleefully telling him about his day.  
  
“Who was that lady? She's real pretty.”  
  
Erik feels an inexplicable pang of sourness run up through his body all the way to his teeth at Charles comment. The harmless comment shouldn't make him feel so bitter, but it does.  
  
~x~  
  
"Charles? Are you in here?"   
  
Erik had spent the last hour looking for the boy and he's had no luck. Charles was not in any of his usual haunts, the kitchen, the lab, the study, the library, his room, or out back, and no one has seen him since after lunch either. Even more worryingly, he has seemingly put up some sort of mental shield, so that Jean could not find him either. Not a good sign.  
  
The man had been very much preoccupied with Cerebro, Hellfire and the Worthington's in recent days, and he has not had a proper private talk with Charles, since his memories have reached when his mother is now remarried. Erik thought he'd take a break for the rest of the day and spend time with Charles, perhaps take him out for a walk and a bit of fresh air.   
  
As he turns a corner in the top floor of the mansion, he think he sees a moving shadow of a small child.  
  
“Charles? Maus, is that you?”  
  
Erik tries to catch up to the shadow, only to find an empty and rarely used corridor. And he would have missed the hidden pull ladder to the attic if it had not been nearly silent in the part of the house, allowing him to hear a slight shuffling from above. He used his powers to call the ladder down, and peeked into this part of the house he didn't know existed.  
  
He found Charles staring wide eyed and slightly embarrassed right back at him, surrounded by his toys, including Loki and Thor, and wrapped within his pale green comforter. The attic had a row of windows that allowed the afternoon light in, illuminating the thick layer of dust in here.  
  
“Charles... may I join you?”  
  
The boy nodded, and wiggled his small body to allow room for Erik to join him in his little toy fortress.  
  
“Do you want to tell me why you've hidden yourself and all your toys up here?”  
  
Charles doesn't quite look him in the eyes, and hides himself further into his comforter.  
  
“...Cain is going to be spending the weekend here. I don't want him to destroy all my toys again, especially Loki and Thor... Raven and Angel made them for me.”  
  
Erik gathers Charles into his arms, and held the boy tightly, projecting as much comforting and soothing thoughts as he can.  
  
“Has he hurt you.. physically?”  
  
“N-no... but I see it in his head... h-he wants to lock me away. Last time he imagined it was me who.. got the whipping from Kurt.”   
  
“Would you like to hide your toys in my room then? The attic is a bit dusty, Loki and Thor is already getting dirty. I promise to guard them for you, and you're welcome to come play with them anytime you want.”  
  
Charles flashed his winning smile, and nodded enthusiastically. Charles knew his treasured toys would be in safe hands with Erik.  
  
“Can we go there now?”  
  
~x~  
  
Sean had asked Hank to come up with possible plans for a security system for not only the mansion itself, but also the vast surrounding grounds. It was something Logan would often bring up whenever he was here, and now that the possibility of becoming a legitimate institution was an even greatly likelihood, they needed to ensure the safety of their residence here. Alex had also asked about the possibilities of a more fortified training room as another extension to the underground bunker.  
  
The furry mutant normally kept a very well organized work station, but with his mind focused on Cerebro and also Charles' welfare prior to and post treatments, the laboratory gotten into a disarray of sorts.  
  
“Where is it? I'm sure I left it here.”  
  
His dozens of preliminary designs and suggestions, but he's been unable to find his drawings under the piles of other paper work. All of a sudden, a small pile of papers slid off the table, scattering all over the floor.   
  
Hank sighed and made a mental note to tidy this place up as soon as possible, but his frustrations was cut short when he noticed that every single piece of paper than was on the floor was the plans he had been looking for.   
  
“Hhmmm.”  
  
The scientist's mind nearly short circuited and his fur stood upright at the thought of the odds of this occurrence.   
  
~x~  
  
Charles and Raven were both slouched on the large sofa in front of the television. They had spent the the day making a game of tidying up around the house, and are now taking a well earned rest. She was catching up on some magazine and newspaper reading while Charles enjoyed a bit of television. She had not noticed that Charles was not the one switching the channels.  
  
"Raven! You're on the television!"  
  
Golden eyes snapped up to the flashing screen. It was a photo of Erik, or Magneto she should say, leading their way out of a just-destroyed research facility. They must have missed this particular camera.  
  
"Is that Erik? Why is he in costume?"  
  
Now there's a question Raven definitely could not answer. She too wonders every time she sees Magneto.  
  
"That helmet... It's a special helmet isn't it? It makes Erik disappear from my mind if he wears it.”  
  
“Yes.. the wiring in the helmet protects his mind from telepathy.”  
  
“Protects him from people like me...”  
  
“N-not you in particular, but others with telepathic powers who may hurt us.”  
  
The painful truth though, was exactly the opposite. With Emma now an ally, the helmet was in fact to protect Erik from Charles, and by the looks of it, Jean in the future.  
  
“Why would we hurt each other? I thought we would all be good to each other”  
  
“Some people don't agree with us.”  
  
“Is there not a better way to sort out disagreements? Why must we have to resort to hurting each other?”  
  
Even at this tender age, Charles was still able to be more level headed than anyone she knows.  
  
“I wish I had a better answer for you, but there are people out there who act on violence first.”  
  
She was too ashamed to admit that she and Erik have been part of the group of people.  
  
~x~  
  
“Erik? Are you busy?”  
  
Erik was in the study, going through the piles of data he had not the time to sift through over the last few weeks. Charles was was welcome break.  
  
“I'm never too busy for you, maus.”  
  
Charles returned with a shy smile and pinkening cheeks. Within his small growing hands was a well glossed wooden box, and Charles held it like it was a prized treasure.  
  
“Hank said that you'd know how to play chess. Can you play with me?”  
  
Erik maintained an amused and indulgent exterior, but his mind was busy working out how Charles had suddenly picked up the passion.  
  
“You know how to play chess?”  
  
“Not very well... yet!”  
  
“Alright, maus. Let's see what you've got.”  
  
Charles sets up the board, it was the board they used to play on, before Cuba, and it was obvious he was currently new to the game by the way he had gotten the positions of the Rooks and Bishops mixed up, as well as the King and Queen.  
  
“Did someone teach you at school?”  
  
“No... Kurt taught me.”  
  
“You're getting along with your step father. That's very big of you.”  
  
“...it's the only time he doesn't think of mother's money.. her drinking... Cain.. or how much I remind him of father..”  
  
Erik does not miss how Charles said father instead of papa. He can't tell if it's just Charles language that has become formal, or if it is the same as when he dropped mama for mother. The man let's Charles begin with white, and Charles moves a pawn forward, while gnawing at his lip in deep concentration.   
  
“How are you with Cain?”  
  
After the incident with the toys and the attic, Erik knew that Cain will soon become more of a sore topic for the boy.  
  
“He's still at that boarding school... and he comes here every other weekend... Kurt and mother is talking about transferring him to a school closer by... I-I hope it won't happen... Does that make me a bad person?”   
  
“By the sounds of things, he seems more like the bad person. No one will blame you for not wanting to spend more time with someone who imagines hurting you.”  
  
Erik captures one of Charles' Knights, leaving the boy in deeper concentration on his next move.  
  
“I can't imaging how hard it is for you to go through so much alone, but remember, there is a mansion full of people here who can be a shoulder to lean on, and an ear to listen.”  
  
“...why can't you explain how none of you exist at the same time as mother and Kurt? Is it because you think I won't be able to understand?”  
  
“No.. it's because we don't know what might happen if you do.”  
  
Though, now that Erik really thinks about it, they didn't explain things because Charles was too young and inexperienced with his telepathy. It is becoming less and less a reasonable assumption. He'll have to talk to Emma and Hank about this. He doesn't want to hide this from Charles if they don't have to anymore.  
  
“Check.”  
  
Charles was a mix of triumph and eagerness. Erik mentally slapped himself for not paying full attention to the game. Perhaps they won't need to explain things to Charles at all. With intelligence like that, he will no doubt figure things out soon enough. While in awe of the young boy's cornering of his chess pieces left on the board, Erik does not see Charles smiling up directly to the left of him, as if someone stood next to him.  
  
~x~  
  
Strange things have been occurring in the mansion over the last week or so. Just little things. Little things that won't harm anyone, but nonetheless make your skin crawl and tingle. Almost everyone, with the clear exception of Charles and Jean, had been a bit on edge what with the random, albeit seemingly well intended, occurrences happening around the mansion.  
  
Not one to be superstitious or easily spooked, Alex had brushed off all the small nervous talk of weird occurrences and *eye roll* ghosts. After a nice hot shower, Alex stepped in front of the fogged up mirror and lathered his face for a close shave. He can't really see himself in the mirror, but he's done this enough times to not need it, and in any case, the steam will clear away by the time he leans in closer to get the areas he'd missed. He had thought nothing of the large drop of condensation that dripped down the mirror, forming a straight line, but stopped after about 10 centimeters.   
  
He was took freaked to let out a high pitched scream when the condensation moved horizontally, then vertically again, forming a clear 'H' on the foggy mirror.  
  
H.. I.. D.. E..... C.. H.. A.. R  
  
 _Charles!  
  
_ Alex was out the door in a blink of an eye, wrapped only in a damp towel around the waist, jaw still half covered with shaving cream. His wet feet made his dash across the marble and the wood a haphazard trip of slipperiness. He was too worried about Charles and Scott to wonder about what had just happened in the bathroom. The bedrooms were empty, so he figured his best bet would be the dining room.  
  
“Charles! !”  
  
Charles was sitting in his usual spot at the dining table, dressed comfortably in his yellow and blue checkered cotton pajamas and fluffy slippers, contently sipping on a mug of steaming hot chocolate, IT was a bit passed his and Jean's usual bedtime, but the duo wanted to wait for Erik and the others' momentary return, so Sean had indulged them.  
  
“...yes?”  
  
The boy looked like a deer caught in blaring headlights. A deer with a frothy chocolate mustache.  
  
“Good! You're oka-”  
  
Before Alex could finish his sigh of relief, there came a loud knock on the front door, before the sound of the thunderous sound of wooden and metal panels crashing to the ground. Jean was the first to speak.  
  
“I-I can't feel who it is..”  
  
~x~  
  
 **Snapshot: Trick or Treat?**  
  
Charles, aged 2 and 12 weeks  
  
~x~  
  
“Can we dress Charles up as Snow White? He'd be perfect. And Erik, you can be the witch, or the apple!” _Raven_.  
  
"What about Peter Pan and Tinkerbell? Charles will make the cutest Tinkerbell!" _Angel_.  
  
"There is no way in hell I'm walking and knocking on doors wearing green tights."  
  
“Would you prefer them to be red?”  
  
Erik gave Sean a flat look, and all the adults snickered. Five minutes into dinner, the subject of what the children were going to dress up as for Halloween had come up. Again. All the children were going, Scott reluctantly so, but the thought of free candy was enough for Alex to blackmail his little brother to go, not to mention the chance to help him make the most bad ass costume.   
  
Raven had stated she wasn't going to miss out on free candy either, so she'll be babysitting them on their trick or treating, and going as her seven year old natural form if she doesn't have the time to think of something else to dress as.   
  
Ororo and Jean were keeping their costumes a secret, but at least they've decided on something, and have already begun work on them. So the problem really lay with what Charles was going to go as. Well, more specifically, what Charles and Erik was going to go as, since they're more or less attached as one.   
  
They had tried letting Charles decide for himself (and Erik), but he agreed to everything and anything. Angel even tried, Dalai Lama style, placing an array of representative objects in front of Charles to see which he'd choose, but he would end up picking up a whole bunch of the items and happily offer it back to Angel.  
  
"Oh! Erik as a mouse trap, and Charles as the cheese!" _Sean_.  
  
“Mickey Mouse and Pluto... on a tight leash” _Alex_.  
  
“Why not the Matryoshka dolls from my country? All six of you in descending size, perfect.” _Azazel_.  
  
“A Shark! Erik reminds me of a shark, and Charles can be a seahorse, since they're real cute!” _Jean._  
  
“A bull and torero. Charles would make a fine torero.” _Janos._  
  
“How about a magnet and a piece of metal?” _Ororo._  
  
“What about an alien? And Charles can sort of burst out of your chest or something” _Scott and his fascination with scientific horrors_.  
  
“P-perhaps a petri-dish and a micro-organism” _And even Hank join in._  
  
Emma's smirk became wider and more frightening as the ideas where thrown about.  
  
"How about..."  
  
~  
  
Erik had actually thought of dressing up to freak everyone out, and the most freakish idea he could come up with was dressing up as a woman in a skimpy satin dress and fishnet stockings, and Charles as a martini glass, olive and all. But when he mentioned this to Angel to test out the reaction, all he got was Angel's spectacular spraying of her drink of water out of her mouth, rainbow included, followed by half an hour of wheezing laughter from her. That was not the response Erik had wanted, so that idea was tucked away. Now, though, he fully regretted not going with his idea.   
  
_Damn, you Emma Frost.  
  
'Oh, stop the pathetic pouting, sugar. Besides, Charles is delectably adorable.'_  
  
 _Damn, you Emma Frost and your telepathy._  
  
“Do you know what you're dressed as?”  
  
Raven asked her exhilarated brother, who looked a hint confused at all the strange get up some people were in.  
  
“Bumble bee! Bzzzz Bzzzzzzzz! !”  
  
Charles excitedly wiggled his body in an attempt to flap his mesh and wire wings, but ended up doing more of a dance with his wiggling bottom that had a large plush bee stinger attached. Angel and Raven had made him a very round and very fluffy bumble bee outfit, and Janos had insisted he somehow found a headband with two black antennas topped with a bright yellow ball of fuzz each, though everyone knew the man had actually handmade the head wear himself. Azazel, not to be outdone by his good friend, procured a set of furry yellow sock-shoes and mittens, which probably were stolen from some shop.  
  
“You ready for some trick or treating? Some candy?”  
  
“Yeah! Tweat! !”  
  
“Come on, Erik. We're all waiting for you!”  
  
The man swallowed his pride and walked to the front door where everyone was waiting, and Raven was ready to lead the children to some much desired free sugar.  
  
Ororo had dressed up as her favorite element, a lightning bolt, and she handmade her own costume completely in silver, with large pieces of very shiny and reflective silver detail. She had also helped Jean with her costume, which took Erik longer to figure out. He thought it was a ballerina gone... crazy, since her torso was completely covered within a big ball of the type of fabric a tutu skirt was made of. He later realized she was dressed as strawberry flavored cotton candy. Scott's costume theme was an extension of the futuristic look of his visor. He was dressed as a sleek and dangerous looking robot, attached with cardboard replicas of what Erik assumed was laser weapons.  
  
“What do you think Erik is dress as?”  
  
Charles studied carefully his favorite adult for a good moment before tilting his head, and forming a blinding smile.  
  
“Poopy! !”  
  
 _Damn, you Emma Frost._  
  
It was true. Erik looked exactly like a very large and very mopey lump of light brown, almost orange fecal matter, topped with a hat that looked like a life size pile of excrement on his head. And the truth was, Emma had actually suggested that Charles dress as a fly, and Erik.. well. Thank goodness, Raven objected to her brother pretending to fly around a lump of manure, so they compromised on a bumble bee and bee hive. Only... it still made Erik look like a pile of dung.  
  
~x~  
  
By the seventh house, Charles was obviously too tired to walk, having exerted himself too much by running circles around Erik and buzzing. Erik wrapped the boy in the little harness attached to his chest, and continued to receive his candy for him.   
  
“Ohh! He's so adorable!”  
  
The woman made cooing noises directed at Charles, but her eyes were firmly and hungrily on Erik.   
  
“Tits!”  
  
“Errr... don't you mean trick or treat, maus?”  
  
Charles answered with a big confident nod, and exclaimed again, while holding out his little hands in waiting, and eyes all a flutter.  
  
“Tits or Tweat! Pooweez!”  
  
Nobody makes eyes at Erik. Not while Charles Xavier is around.  
  



	11. Eight and Danger Knocks Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely reviews and the ongoing support with the kudos/favs/alerts! Apologies for being a few days late, on top of a rush to the veterinary emergency room and a day keeping vigil on my pup, this chapter was hella difficult to put into words for unidentified reasons, even though it is so clear in my mind. Nonetheless, got it trudged out, cause ya'll so awesome!  
> (Also. Could NOT figure out what the heck is on Sinister's forehead. A gem? An apocalyptic portal? A 3M band-aid? A smudge of ketchup? Anyway, I got lazy, and I'mma be bypassing that red diamond whatever-it-is and his forehead's gonna be as smooth as an a-hole's bottom!)
> 
> Next chapter will explain the so called ghost in the mansion and we'll also be skipping a bit of time, want to be tackling teen!Charles already ;)
> 
> Warnings: violence involving children.

"Let me assure you.. Magneto now, is it? You can trust me. And Emma... This is how you treat an old friend? I'm hurt."  
  
They were gathered in the lavish lounge hidden behind the Hellfire Club.   
  
Nathaniel Essex, or Mister Sinister as he liked to be called here, sat splayed out and relaxed on one side of the octagonal couch set up, and Erik sat rigidly upright opposite him, with Emma, looking gracefully disinterested, to his right and Raven, in human form clad in a skin tight blue dress, to his left. Azazel stood behind them, to the side, leaning on the wall of decorated shelves. His casual demeanor was only a facade, and his tension is evident in the slight jerk of the deadly sharp tip of his swaying tail. Angel and Janos were stationed out in the club area as a precaution.  
  
“I know about your experiments on mutant children. I want to know why.”  
  
Erik does not bother keeping the disgust and vehemence out of his voice, though it was having the opposite effect on Sinister than he wanted. The man just took another long sip of his brandy, looking serious for the first time since Erik has known him, before answering.  
  
“Would you believe me if I said it was for the continued survival of our kind?”  
  
Without even waiting for the raised eyebrows across the room, Sinister barked out a laugh.  
  
“Bah! Neither would I! I did it because I could! ! I did it for my own survival. And I am sure we here are all capable of doing unspeakable things when our own survival is at stake. So what do you say, Mags, shall we bury the past and let this be a... reintroduction to a beautiful friendship?”  
  
The art-deco patterned hidden double doors swung abruptly open, Angel and Janos, looking worn and wary, were pushed through the entrance by a pair of too-large hands with that ended in nails as sharp and study as claws. The man had a mane of wild blonde hair that extended down the sides of his cheeks, and large long canines that even a closed mouth could not hide. There was something about him that reminded Erik of Logan Howlett.   
  
The man was joined by two others, both of whom looked only a handful of years older than Scott. One of them had silky chestnut hair that almost brushed along his shoulders, but the most striking feature about him was his deep glowing eyes, burning red like ember. He sauntered into the room with a confidence no one at his age ought to have, balancing a long metal staff on his shoulder with his right hand, and flicking through a deck of cards in his left. The moment his blazing eyes landed on Raven, he gave her a flirty wink and blew a kiss her way. The second man was shorter, but that could be due to his hunched back. His skin was ghastly pale, bordering on a green tinge, but everything else about him seemed to be fairly average. That is, until his tongue extended out of his mouth, and kept extending until it reached his temple to brush away a stray strand of hair.   
  
Erik couldn't quite place why he found the latter man familiar until he met Emma's eyes.   
  
_So that's where the boy disappeared to. Mortimer Toynbee, probably abducted by Sinister after the explosion of the Black Womb site._  
  
Every single piece of metal in club began to rattle. The more Erik thought about what torture the young man might have endured under Sinister, the more he wanted to pull all the iron out of the smirking man's blood and drill each molecule through the man repeatedly.   
  
“Well... perhaps less of a reintroduction but an audition.”  
  
Sinister said with a wide knowing smirk, and he gestured with a flick of his fingers for his three associates to attack. The man sat back, one hand swirling his glass of brandy, enjoying the dancing puppets around him, and idly thinking of who he should pick as his next experiment.   
  
~x~  
  
"I-I can't feel who it is.."  
  
By the forth explosive boom that shook the mansion's sturdy foundations, Hank finally gave up hope that it was Erik having a bad day and losing control of his powers. A ferocious roar bellowed through the corridors.   
  
"WHERE ARE YOU! ? GET OUT HERE AND FACE ME! !"  
  
Even his voice shook the walls, and the man sounded murderous.  
  
It was just Alex, Hank, Sean and the children in the mansion tonight. None of them have been in real combat since Cuba. Hank had been asked help on a few assignments for Erik, but he was always spared the fight, and focused on finding out what the machinery or drugs were used for. They were sorely ill prepared to face danger.  
  
"Alex-"  
  
The blonde man didn't need to be told. He knew very well how dangerous and useless he'd be without the suit.   
  
"My suit's in the bunker."  
  
"Jean, Charles and I will go with you, let's try Cerebro and contact Erik. If Jean couldn't access the man's mind, there's a good chance he's got some type of helmet on like Erik's. If all else fails, we should try to at least get the helmet off, and Jean, Charles, we may need your help to incapacitate him when his mind is accessible.”  
  
The two young children nodded, and looked more alert than frightened. Jean had clutched her hand tightly onto Charles', but neither arms were trembling. Hank was torn between relief that the two of them were not in total panic and also despair in the fact they needed to involve them at all.  
  
"Then we'll try to give you time and lure him outside. Ro, we need you to create a fog, and Scott, help me cover Ro."  
  
Sean was already on the move, he needed that man to follow him outside before he notices Charles, whom Sean is sure is who the intruder is after. Ororo's normally iridescent sky blue eyes faded white as she called for a thick build up of fog and mist into and around the mansion. From out of the darkness, graceful tendrils of gray fog danced its way towards the mansion, swirling and enveloping the building in condensed darkness and the unique smell of what can only be described as ozone. Scott adjusted the sittings on his visor to 75% full blast. He's yet to try the visor at over 80%, nor has he ever intentionally aimed his optic blasts to hurt a person before, to say he was nervous was an understatement.   
  
"Jean, Charles, do you think you can help us communicate with each other mentally?"  
  
"I think so.. but I don't know for how long I can maintain it."  
  
"I can take turns with Charles."  
  
 _'Can everyone hear?'_  
  
A round of mental assent followed as they split into two groups and disappeared into the gray mist.   
  
“FUCKING COWARD! ! YOU THINK A BIT OF SMOKE IS GONNA HIDE YOU! ?”  
  
Before another wall could be slammed through, Sean appeared out of the fog before the massively muscular man, clad in a tattered old shirt, oxblood in color and faded jeans. He was wearing an overly large, smooth, red metal helmet that covered the man's entire face and head, revealing only his eyes and mouth. Moreover, the helmet was bolted onto another thick metal plate on his shoulder, ensuring there was no way to just knock the helmet off his head, they'll need Alex or Scott to melt through that metal.  
  
“You want him? You gotta go through me first!”  
  
Sean swiftly backed into the fog, leading the trespasser out into the darkened gardens out back. As soon as the man stepped out of the mansion, Sean let loose an ear blistering wail, shattering all the glass and chinaware in range. However, the man was either physically immune to the sonic wavelengths or the helmet had shielded him from the severity of the attack, and he just kept stomping towards the the retreating Sean.  
  
 _'Damn it! I'm only gonna be good as a distraction. Scott, the helmet!'  
  
'Got it!'  
  
_With one hand to steady his visor, Scott took aim at the bulky man now charging towards Sean, and fired, knocking the man out of his assault, but not off his balance. Scott maintained his optic blast, aiming directly at the base of the helmet where it was attached to the shoulder plate, hoping that would be a weak spot of the contraption.   
  
The man's movements slowed, but as soon as he turned his attention on to Scott, and barreled towards him, the optic blasts proved to be ineffective. Not one to give up or back away, Scott attempted to switch his visor to a stronger setting.  
  
 _'Scott! Get out of the way! Run! !'_  
  
Panic and despair echoed within with Sean's voice, before a flash of immeasurable pain. Then nothing.   
  
_'Scott! ! !'_  
  
Alex's voice blared through everyone's mind.  
  
 _'Scotty! Talk to me! Are you alright!? I'm coming to you right now! !'  
  
'I-I'm alright... but Sean..'  
  
_An image of an unconscious and bloody Sean in the arms of a fallen Scott was being projected by Ororo to the others.   
  
"Who the hell are you brats? More leeching strays?"  
  
In Scott's peripheral vision, Ororo was hovering in midair, arms spread upwards and wide apart, head tilted towards the sky as if to call upon its powers. When she abruptly faced back down at the intruder, her face was fierce with anger, eyes a smoldering white. Without further warning, bolt after bolt of lightning struck from the skies, hitting the man with deadly precision. The sheer force of the lightning pushed the man flat into the ground, and finally he stopped moving.  
  
But only for a brief moment, not even enough to catch a breath.  
  
The man defied his immense bulk, and jumped up, charging directly at Ororo, who was now too stunned to move away. From behind the intruder, Alex released a heavy beam of pure red plasma energy blasted at his back, startling Ororo awake, and giving her the opportunity to take flight into the night sky. Alex's beams may be higher in potency than Scott's but at the same time, it was also more difficult to get under control, so the man was unable to maintain precision for a longer than a few seconds at a time.   
  
“ENOUGH! ! I DIDN'T COME HERE TO BABYSIT! WHERE THE HELL IS HE! ! ! ? ?”  
  
Alex could practically see the fury seeping out of the helmet. The intruder turned to face Alex, and the moment their eyes met, Alex knew he was in deep shit. Alex had little choice but to make a momentary run for it. He couldn't release another blast when the others were still so close to the masked man.   
  
“Get back here you fucking piece of chicken shit! !”  
  
They headed towards one side of the mansion, away from an unconscious Sean who was being frantically looked after by Scott and Ororo. The man seemed to gain further destructive momentum when he started running, each of his steps leaving a hole in the ground, and he was gaining on Alex with alarming speed.   
  
_'Shit! Hank, what's happening with Cerebro?'  
  
'Give me ten more minutes!'  
  
'I don't know if you'll have ten minut-'  
  
'Alex! !?'_  
  
Multitudes of panic laced through each other's mind when Alex does not respond immediately.  
  
 _'I-I'm fi-ne... Fu-ck.. H-he's de-stroyed the po-wer box.. Scott-'  
  
'I'm here Alex! I'll come help you!'  
  
'No Sc-ott.. I need you.. t-to go to C-Cerebro and help Hank.. seal it shut.'  
  
'But-'  
  
'Now Scott! I'll be f-ine... h-he's heading b-ack inside.. for Char-les.. Go now! ..H-Hank...'_  
  
 _'...I'll keep them safe, Alex.'_  
  
~x~  
  
With the power off, Cerebro is of no use, but even standing inside this vast dome should amplify Charles' and Jean's telepathy. Just as the distinct wiring within Erik's helmet neutralizes telepathy, the wiring within each individual panel of Cerebro was designed to magnify and intensify. They just needed to get that helmet off.  
  
“After this, I'm going to build a regenerator to a regenerator.”  
  
Hank said, mostly to himself, but half hoping it would ease the minds of the two children with him. The lights were off now too, and they were forced to go by the few hand held flashlights Hank had the foresight to stock in every room in the mansion.  
  
Charles and Jean were huddled behind Cerebro's control panel, their previous alertness has mostly faded, and all Hank could make out under the limited light was fear.  
  
“Whatever happens, you two need to stay hidden, okay?”  
  
A powerful thump came at the soldered together entrance before Hank could make them promise, each pound of the cold metal bringing about a frightened twitch in the children. Scott stood to the side of the entrance, hoping to blast at the helmet again when the man invariably breaks down the doors. He was reeling from the image of Sean collapsed over him, and the knowledge that Alex was badly wounded. Scott set his visor to 100%. He no longer cared whether he might kill the man.  
  
The banging continued, and the steel doors have curved inwards. It would only be a matter seconds. Hank gave one final glance towards the direction of the hidden children to make sure they could not be easily spotted.  
  
When the doors finally gave way and smashed over to the other side of the dome, Scott immediately fired, focusing again at the spot he had shot at before. At full capacity, Scott was finding it more strenuous to aim and balance at the same time. His shoes were losing their grip on the smooth steel floor, and the pure force of his optic plasma was pushing his weight further and further back until he reached the wall. This did not go unnoticed by the intruder, and he strode towards Scott with purpose, pushing the young man into the wall with his own plasma force, until he was more or less stuck deep inside a molten cavern.   
  
Hank managed to jump the intruder before he buried Scott behind all that misshapen steel. The Beast's hidden strength took the man by surprise, and Hank managed to get a few bolts loosened with the pliers he found. Hank's attempt at removing the helmet fed the man with renewed levels of rage and power, and he flipped Hank off onto the ground as if he were a pile of flint.   
  
Then the intruder jumped up and performed a leg drop directly onto Hank's chest. The colossal amount of pressure drew out all of Hank's breath, leaving him lying powerless in a pile of rubble, coughing blood, fighting just to breathe, painfully. But the man didn't seem satisfied as he loomed over incapacitated man on the ground, ready to drive another kick in to him.  
  
From behind, a piece of rubble hit the man's back.  
  
“Stop! Shop hurting him! ! Get away from him!”  
  
It was Charles with an armful of steel and brick wreckage. His small growing body trembled in terror, but his eyes were determined sapphires of tenacity. The masked man faltered somewhat when he processes the child's face. It was as if he was seeing a ghost. He was so shocked, he doesn't notice the last remaining bolts on his helmet were quietly unscrewing themselves.  
  
“...you must be his son. You look exactly like him... Exactly the way he looks in my worst nightmares!”  
  
Hank tried to yell for Charles to run, but all that his body would allow was bloody short and labored gasps. The last thing he sees before he faded into unconsciousness was the fragments of light catching on the moving bolts.   
  
With one sweep of his arm, the massive man grabbed onto Charles by the neck, and lifted.   
  
“Even when you're in danger, he still hides like the coward he is!”  
  
Charles' legs kick and flail about, his small hands tugged uselessly at the man's oversized hand around his neck, struggling for air. The man notices the red haired girl behind the row of monitors, and he smirks at her as he is about to throw Charles into the wall like garbage.   
  
"Stop! ! No! ! !"  
  
~x~  
  
"Ugh.. I'm gonna spend an hour in the tub."   
  
Raven spoke as she stretched and massaged her neck. Before Azazel could reply with a 'may I join', they had arrived in the mansion's main foyer. To sight of debris and destruction.  
  
"Wha... what the hell.."  
  
Angel's horrified tone reflected what everyone was thinking.  
  
"I sense Ororo back outside.. Sean is with her, unconscious... Alex is nearby too, injured."  
  
Emma had transformed into her diamond form and if diamonds could develop a cold sweat, she was the image of such a phenomenon.   
  
"Blood flow down in the bunker...Cerebro."  
  
Erik could feel the gathered hum of iron molecules down in the bunker., and the iron fast flowing, indicating accelerated heart rates.   
  
_**"Stop! ! No! ! !"**_  
  
The voice was muffled, but clearly it was Jean's, and Erik was on the move immediately.   
  
"Janos, Angel clear the perimeter and look for Alex, Sean and Ororo, the rest of you with me to Cerebro, now!"   
  
Azazel snapped his hands on to his fellows, and Erik readied his powers to attack at once.   
  
~  
  
The sulfuric smoke cleared to the sight of unmitigated destruction. Hank was unconscious and bloody near the center of Cerebro in a crater of crumpled concrete and metal.   
  
“Oh my God! Hank! !”  
  
Raven ran to his side, but was afraid to move the man for fear of hurting him further. A few feet away was an enormously built man, frozen, his face a mix of shock and madness, and a red cone-shaped helmet floating in midair beside him. Another few steps further still, was Charles and Jean gathered close into one another, almost hyperventilating but hypnotized by the helmet.   
  
“Charles, Jean are you hurt! ?”  
  
At the sound of Erik's voice, the helmet clatters to the ground, the sound of which snaps Charles out of his daze and his face crumbles up when he faces the distressed man.   
  
“Erik... h-elp.. Hank.. S-Scott... everyone... help..”  
  
Jean, still with a bewildered look on her face, looked around for a moment, then her eyes promptly rolled back and fainted into Erik's embrace.  
  
Emma transformed out of her diamond form, focused on Jean with complete awe and pride.  
  
“I believe her secondary mutation just manifested. Telekinesis.”   
  
~x~  
  
“The man just turned up and bashed down the door..”  
  
With Erik back, Scott was easily freed from his metal prison in the wall of Cerebro.   
  
“He was looking for Charles.. I don't know what he would have done to him if knew Charles was... right there.”  
  
Erik had asked Azazel and Emma to go find and 'convince' the area's best doctor to pay the mansion a late night home visit. Charles had gone with Raven to try help the others and provide whatever comfort they could at the moment. All the children were thankfully relatively unhurt. Scott will suffer a few heavy bruises, but he's able to move about freely. Jean had woken up, after a short rest and she joined Ororo in bringing in some ice and clean towels help those suffering with more sever injuries.   
  
Emma has placed the intruder into a deep coma for the time being. When things settle down in the mansion, Erik wants to speak to the man himself. He would have preferred to have Azazel lock him somewhere in Hellfire, but he didn't want to risk Sinister getting his hands onto this man.  
  
 _'His name is Cain Marko.'_  
  
So as to not remind the others of their horrid night, Erik had taken off his helmet, and he was unnerved by the sudden iciness prickling inside his head. However, that feeling was nothing compared to what stirred inside him by the name Emma had just given.  
  
~x~  
  
 **Snapshot: The Proposal**  
  
Charles, aged 4 and ¾  
  
~x~  
  
 _Mrs. Etiquette's Guide to the Perfect Marriage Proposal.  
  
By reading this, you have taken the first step towards asking your special lady friend to share the rest of your life with you. Follow these simple steps, and you will have a swooning bride-to-be in your arms in no time.  
  
~  
  
Step 1: Make Certain She is The One._  
  
For days, Charles stalked Erik with his startlingly blue eyes and piercing gaze. The child would stare, mouth mid-gnaw, for minutes without blinking. It was harrowing even to watch let alone be on the receiving end of such intense scrutiny.   
  
Charles would be there in the morning when Erik awoke, standing on tip toes beside his pillow.  
  
He'd be there when Erik gets out of the shower, peeking from the slightly open bathroom door.  
  
His eyes would follow Erik's clumsy pre-coffee attempts at pouring the dark liquid drug.   
  
He would have his gaze studiously glued on him when Erik wanted to... well, when Erik needed alone time. And alone time has not been forthcoming for days.  
  
"Charles... May you please explain why you've been staring at me all day?" For the past week.  
  
"To make sure you're the one! !"  
  
The gooey smile that broke Charles' staring was enough to quell Erik's urge to ask further, and let Charles do his thing. What's the worst that could happen anyway?  
  
~  
  
 _Step 2: Finding the Perfect Ring_  
  
Charles naturally turned to Hank as his go-to man for encyclopedic knowledge of all things he didn't understand, and Hank obligingly gave the toddler a half day long lesson on the history of rings going back to the first invention of the wheel and the natural occurrences of circular shapes in nature. Packed full of knowledge, the toddler set about finding that perfect ring. 'The token of your affections', Mrs. Etiquette says.  
  
The rest of the day was spent rummaging through the garage all the way to the hidden attic, but Charles still could not find **it**. He was about to give up in teary defeat for the day when he noticed a small wooden box covered in a thin layer of dust, hidden deep inside the bottom drawer of his father's large oak desk.  
  
Inside the simply decorated box was a mismatch of photos, letters, and trinkets that Brian Xavier had collected over the years. One particular item that caught Charles' eye, and left him giddy and excited, was a small solid silver bangle that was too small to fit a grown man, but too big to fit on a finger. On the inside of the bangle was an inscription in beautifully handcrafted script font.  
  
 _Charles F. Xavier, 1930_  
  
The toddler looked confounded at the piece of jewelry in his small hands. He's never seen this before, yet it had his name on it and birth year on it. Charles concluded that this must be a birthday gift that he was not supposed to find. The child felt guilty at having gone through his father's possessions while he was away but this was a dire situation, and he was sure his father would understand once he was done wooing Erik.  
  
~  
  
 _Step 3: Be Romantic_  
  
"I'd like to be swept off my feet."  
  
Since Hank sputtered his drink at the mention of romance, Charles had to ask someone else about what being romantic entailed. Raven was the obvious choice, because Sean always teases her about her romantic getaways with Azazel. She answered Charles question with a dreamy look and fluttering lashes.  
  
He probably should have asked for Azazel's opinion too, but Charles had found a broom first, so it was time to get busy sweeping.  
  
~  
  
Erik was increasingly certain that Charles wanted him dead, or at the very least heading down the stairway bottoms up, face first. Since the night before, the boy had started to carry around a broom twice the height of his little body, and going on an affront at his bruised heels.   
  
Everywhere he turned, Charles would be waiting, with that damn broom normally used for sweeping up the fallen leaves outside. And it was as if Charles was deliberately try to trip him over, placing extra effort his dramatic sweeping movements. The most horrifying fact was every time Erik managed to remain upright, Charles would pout and make puppies eyes at him and the broom, then sweep even harder the next attack.  
  
Finally, when Erik was about to set down onto the couch to catch up on some newspapers, Charles attacked from behind with his mighty broom, and Erik fell ungracefully with a yelp into the cushions.   
  
"Did I sweep you?"  
  
"...yes you did-"  
  
"Yaaaay! !"  
  
Erik could only look wide eyed with no small amount of fear at the boy running away in triumph.   
  
Meanwhile, Raven literally blended into the wall so that Erik would not see the guilt, written in capital letters and underlined in red on her face.  
  
He does hear her snorts though.  
  
~  
  
 _Step 4: Make it a Surprise_  
  
It was during dinner one rainy night. Everyone had settled in their usual seats, but Charles still had not joined them at the table.   
  
"Charles!? Dinner's ready!"  
  
Scott was about to volunteer to find Charles' chirpy voice sprung from somewhere under the table.  
  
"Erik! !"  
  
Charles' head popped out between Erik's legs from under his chair, freaking everyone out, especially Erik, if his string of German cussing was any indication.  
  
"Charles... Y-you startled me! What on earth are you doing down there?”

 

“Good! It's a surprise!”  
  
~  
  
 _Step 5: Be Traditional  
  
_ Charles crawled out from under the chair, and knelt on the ground beside Erik. His mouth suddenly formed an 'O' as he remembered to kneel on one knee. From his pocket, Charles retrieved a silver bangle that looked to be one of those you present to a new born baby. Charles extended his little arms to offer Erik the bangle, which he now also notices the inside of which is covered partly with a small piece of white duct tape, with 'Erik' written in Charles', currently, haphazard handwriting.   
  
"Erik, will you marry me?”  
  
The table goes silent.   
  
Erik doesn't know how best to handle this particular predicament. He doesn't want to encourage Charles' bizarre idea of marriage, but he can't bare to break the boy's heart. Nonetheless, his lack of instantaneous reaction has led to Charles' wobbly lips, not to mention a full table of murderous looks his way.  
  
“Yes! Yes, yes... of course... I-I'd love to.. marry you, Charles.”  
  
Charles jumped up in pure bliss, and crawled his way up into his favorite cushion in the world; Erik's lap. In his other pocket, the boy takes out a small jar of honey and a rumples pieces of paper with a circular drawing.  
  
"Here's the honey, and I drew a moon... Azza! Please can you take us to Hawaii now? We gotta make babies! How many babies do you think the honey will make? Should we bring a bigger jar?"  
  
"Wait wait.. You forgot to kiss your bride, Charles!"  
  
Erik and Charles' reaction was instant. Erik gave Sean a glare that would have normally drilled holes, but Charles without any hesitation pulled Erik's face down and gave the man a big wet kiss on the cheek.  
  
“No! On the mouth Charles. You gotta kiss your bride on the mouth to seal the deal.”  
  
Before Erik could object and lecture Sean about inappropriate child rearing, Charles stood up upon Erik's thighs, and with his small hands at Erik's cheeks, the boy bought their faces together, and gave Erik a big, wet kiss full of moistened lips.   
  
~  
  
Charles finally fell asleep, hogging two thirds of Erik's bed, after proudly showing the man the magazine article that led him down his wooing adventure, and also on the advise of which left him refusing to let his _bride_ sleep alone on their wedding night. Erik wanted to slowly shred the magazine with an array flying knives, but the dopey smile still plastered on Charles' face was enough to cause him temporary memory loss.


	12. Twelve and Time to Grow Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the great feedback! Seems like Charles did good with his proposal ;)
> 
> So so so sorry this update is over a week late without prior warning! Forgot I had friends visiting from overseas, then RL kept kicking me in the lady parts! With work building up, I'm going to aim for an update every fortnight. Please also note rating of this has gone up (ya know, just in case I sneak in a few moments of M and above moments)
> 
> Not as much actual teen!Charles in this chapter as I had hoped, again a chapter of plot setting. I do plan on sending Charles into an teenage emotional and hormonal roller coaster ride next and coming chapters! So please do bear with me for now ;)
> 
> BTW, if it wasn't clear before, Charles' age in the chapter title is his age at the end of the chapter unless otherwise stated.

"Are you absolutely sure? He could have manipulated him withou-"  
  
"I'm very thorough, Erik."  
  
Emma snapped back with an icy glare. She was not going to be second guessed by the man about her competence regarding a full mental scan. Something he had forced her to triple check.  
  
Erik had be pacing back and forth behind her, stopping constantly to watch over her shoulder, crowding into her space. It's rare, if ever, to see him so physically unsettled, and undoubtedly it was with good reason. He had insisted on Emma conducting the mind sweep, first thing the following morning, into Cain Marko to determine whether or not he was under the influence of Nathaniel Essex. She too was rattled by the unlikely coincidence of the night's events, but his mind was completely free of Sinister's painfully sharp telepathic presence. With his personality, Emma was certain he does nothing without leaving a signature.  
  
"But you _have_ found something."  
  
He knew Emma well enough now to read her so called stony expressionless face. It was always ever so subtle, but he can tell that she had found something in Marko's mind. Something that troubled her. Which in itself was a scary thought.   
  
"...his mind does have traces of being corrupted by telepathy..."  
  
Erik stopped his agitated pacing at once. She was hesitant to tell him more, further piquing his attention and anxiety.  
  
"And?"  
  
"I could trace the telepathic influence to his teens.."  
  
Erik closed his eyes and cursed under his breath.  
  
"I sensed no other telepath to have entered his mind till Jean last night."  
  
The two then looked solemnly at the man still kept in deep sleep on the thoroughly destroyed ground. They both had the same questions spearing through their minds.  
  
What happened between Charles Xavier and Cain Marko.   
  
Well, whatever happened between them will be relived by Charles very soon, and Erik just hoped none of the residents in the mansion will be caught in the possible crossfire.  
  
~x~  
  
“...”  
  
“Hey... Hank. You're finally awake. Are you in pain?”  
  
Raven had been sitting at Hank's bedside since Charles and the other children were safely tucked into bed. It was now late afternoon the following day, and the only time she had reluctantly left Hank's side was because Azazel had asked Charles to convince her to get a bit of food and rest.   
  
The physician that had came in stated Hank's injuries were the most severe compared to Alex and Sean, but miraculously the man had never seen cell regeneration and recovery at such alarming speed. Raven had to give Emma props for the number she did on the doctor. She didn't make it so that the human didn't see Hank's blue fur or rolled back golden eyes, but it was as if mutant patients were as common as a flu vaccine.   
  
With the aid of the medical equipment Hank had set up in the extension to the laboratory, primarily to do physicals on Charles, the doctor was able to conduct extensive examinations on all three of the men, not to mention the children and those who were at Hellfire.   
  
When Hank's eyes regained focus, he had to do a double take to make sure he was not dreaming.  
  
“..Ra-Raven? W-where am I? You're in m-my room?”  
  
Hank tried to sit up, but his muscles where not cooperating with his brain, and he only managed to lift his head a few inches off his pillow before a rush of blood flow made him wheezy.   
  
“Stop! You shouldn't move about just yet.”  
  
“H-how long have I been out? Scott! Ch-Charles and Jean? I-is everyone safe!?”  
  
“Shhh... Yes, everyone's safe... You've been asleep for around twenty hours. I-I saw through Charles' memories... you saved Scott, and you did everything you could to protect my brother and Jean. Thank you.”  
  
“But it wasn't enough. We weren't strong enough. He was just one person, and one of us could stop him. The children shouldn't have needed to fear for their lives. If you all hadn't arrived back-”  
  
“It was Jean who stopped him. Her secondary mutation manifested. It's telekenesis.”  
  
Hank's yellow eyes widened in awe, reflecting the soft lighting, making them glow like yellow topaz.  
  
“That's incredible! It must have been her who was loosened those screws... I had thought it was...”  
  
“...it was what?”  
  
“N-nothing. My mind was playing tricks. H-how is Alex and Sean? They were injured.”  
  
“Sean has a few broken ribs, but most of his injuries were to the skull. Emma's done a scan, he's fine now. He woke up a few hours ago. Alex has a broken arm and leg, he's been trying to get out of bed, but Scott has more or less tied him down. You had it worst, but your mutation allows for really quick recovery.”  
  
The beast shied away from looking into Raven's eyes for a moment, only to notice the faint cuts on her skin.  
  
“You're injured? Tough mission?”  
  
He doesn't miss Raven wince.  
  
“Yeah... I'm beginning to realize how naive both Charles and Erik may be. But that's a talk we'll have another time. You need to get some food in you-”  
  
“I think you're the reason I'm still alive.”  
  
Raven had gotten up out of her seat and was about to leave the room to heat up some soup for him.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I-I never apologized to you... for what I said to you before Cuba. I was afraid and ashamed. I shouldn't have forced that on to you. You're cells have forced me to accepted me for myself. You're cells are also the reason why I can heal faster. I'm sor-”  
  
Raven placed a finger to Hank's lips.  
  
“Don't apologize. Not now.”  
  
She removed her finger and gave Hank a gentle, barely there kiss on the lips.  
  
“Ugh... thank you?”  
  
Raven laughed aloud, and told Hank she'll be right back with some food and water. She doesn't notice Azazel leaning in the shadows, watching them through the open door.  
  
~x~  
  
Logan turned up around a week after Cain. The second he stepped up to the front doors, he knew something was off. The doors were obviously a rushed temporary replacement, no longer the large elegant oak double doors, but thick slabs of wielded metal. His keen instincts told him something bad had happened, but it was probably safe for now, nonetheless it didn't stop him from heading out to the bark yard first as a precaution. When he rounded to the back, Sean and Janos where there doing some yard work. Sean's head was wrapped up, and Logan could see the bandages showing from his collar.  
  
Janos was the first to notice him, and pointed him out to Sean.  
  
"Logan! Good to see you. We've not been to the shops lately, you might have trouble finding the foo-"  
  
"Where do you want me?"  
  
Sean's shoulders slouched down in relief, his face was one of pure gratefulness.  
  
"The yard's looking pretty good now if you turn a blind eye to the refilled grass-less patches. I think they'll need another pair of hands down in Cerebro though... Also, Hank may want to see you about getting a sample of the Adamantium in your body, and Alex said you wanted to in on designing a 'Danger Room'?"  
  
When Janos walked closely passed Logan, the larger man's sharp nose picked up a scent hidden under the layer of ocean scented cologne. A scent that made Logan's hair stand, his claws itching to lash out between his knuckles. He managed to contain his claws unleashed, but not a threatening growl.   
  
Creed.  
  
“Bub, we need to talk first.”   
  
~x~  
  
It's been ten days since Alex had stepped into a shower. With his left arm and leg broken and in casts, Scott had ordered his brother to stay in bed, and he's been wiping himself down with wet towels. The only time he's been allowed out of bed was for the toilet, and even then Scott demanded the door be left open just in case.  
  
Alex will admit, he is overwhelmingly proud of how Scott handled himself that night and since. He didn't ever want to be in a position to be taken cared for my his baby brother, but Scott has really stepped up and taken responsibility, no matter now over bearing and over dramatic he is at the moment.   
But, he can reminisce about all this later. Right now, it's finally time for a nice, long, relaxing, dirt cleansing, muscle soothing, hot, steaming shower.   
  
_Holy shit holy shit holy shit shit shit shit shit_...  
  
“Hank!”  
  
The blonde man practically skidded on his good feet into the laboratory where he knew Hank would be, good hand flapping about wildly. Also, in his rush, his damp towel fell off his waist, and thus he stood stark naked, dripping wet, with plastic bags covering his casts.  
  
“Hank! There's a ghost in the house!”  
  
A well used pen fell out of the blue beast's large hands while he rushed to grab the extra lab coat hanging by the wall.  
  
“Ugghhh... here, put this on.”  
  
Alex rolled his eyes and batted the white coat away.  
  
“Didn't you hear me!? A ghost! A fucking ghost that talked to me! Warned me about Marko after my shower. A God damn perverted ghost, Hank! What do we do? What do you know about getting rid of ghosts? What's it called? Exportism?”  
  
“Exorcism.”  
  
“Yes, that! What do we need? A priest? A cross? I don't know if there a bible here-”  
  
“I have to admit there has been some odd occurrences happening-”  
  
“Right!?”  
  
“I had thought it was Jean's telekenesis... but what you're describing just doesn't fit.”  
  
“So it's a fucking ghost then!”  
  
“...have you felt 'it' since?”  
  
“No... not since that night... you think Marko somehow killed the ghost?”  
  
“I think we need to talk to Jean or Charles.”  
  
~  
  
“You mean No Name?”  
  
“Ugh what?”  
  
Alex finally put some clothes on, and the two men were gathered in the study with the four children. Scott would probably have looked bewildered at the whole conversation if he wasn't too busy fussing over his brother. The three other children, however, looked at them like they didn't know how to use a fork.  
  
“No Name. Well, he doesn't remember his name, so we started calling him No Name.”  
  
“He!? It's a he now? When were you guys going to tell us about this No Name?”  
  
“What is No Name? A mutant or...?”  
  
“We're not quite sure... Charles and I haven't been able to access his mind. It's sort of blocked somehow. He also doesn't remember much... but...”  
  
“But?”  
  
Charles picked up when Jean seemed to be unable to continue to describe things.  
  
“He said he found us because he think he knew my mind, and he knew you both, as well as Sean, Raven, Eric... and Angel. But I always feel this pain and guilt when he talks about Angel.”  
  
“Oh! And he doesn't seem to like Azazel or Janos very much...”  
  
 _Holy shit_. _Can it really be? Can he really adapt to overcome death?  
  
_ Hank looked like he was connecting the dots, and Alex could see the moment when the beast figured it out when his vividly colored fur stood on its roots. Alex tried to bend down to meet Charles and Jean at eye level, but his cast-up leg meant he could only dip down a few painful inches.  
  
“D-do you we can talk to him?”  
  
“...well.. we haven't felt him since t-that night with the man.”  
  
 _No.. no no no...  
  
_ Alex felt nauseous and his good leg buckled, but Hank and Scott managed to hold him upright.   
  
Hank prayed that _he_ might be just recuperating. He now believes that it was _he_ who helped unbolt Cain's helmet, allowing for Jean to take it off with her telekenesis.  
  
“If anyone feels his presence or odd things begin to occur around the mansion again, please let either Alex or I know.”  
  
~x~  
  
“Miss MacTarggert... y-yes, everything is fine here, thank you. How are thing on your side?”  
  
“Well, I'm calling to tell you some possible good news. It's been arranged for a few inspectors to visit Westchester at the end of the week. If they give the green light, I can arrange for the application get onto the fast-track, which means the institute will be official in two weeks, a month tops.”  
  
“That's great news! Thank you! How's Warren? Will we have enough time?”  
  
Moira sighed into the speaker and Sean can just see her massaging the bridge of her nose.   
  
“Things remain the same with Warren, but I've heard the Worthingtons have finished selecting a number of top surgeons around the world, once the non-disclosure agreements are signed it will be a matter when they can all fly in. I was wondering if you could begin your part of the plan with convincing them about the institute.”  
  
“Yes, of course! We may be able to have someone over today.”  
  
“R-really?... Okay, I trust you Mr. Cassidy. I'm not quite sure why... but I do.”  
  
~x~  
  
For a little under a month, Cain Marko had been kept under a sort of mental daze. His memories of his powers and manifestation had been temporarily erased, or so Emma had assured Erik before she had left to work on the Worthingtons with Raven and Sean.   
  
In the past month, Erik had tried to get to know Marko, and the man turned out to be a painful reflection of himself. Too much focused and shortsighted rage. However, all this rage seemed to be directed at the one person Erik could not fathom how.  
  
"Tell me about Charles Xavier."  
  
Marko tensed, his features twitched in disgust at the name.  
  
“And what do you want to know about that little shit?”  
  
“Why you want him dead for starters.”  
  
Marko barked out a dry sour laugh.  
  
“I don't want him dead. I want him to suffer like how he made me suffer. I want him whipped to an inch of his life then I'll let him heal so I can fucking do it all over again.”  
  
“...he tortured you?”  
  
“No. Good old papa had that honor.”  
  
“Then why-”  
  
“Because my own father loved his step son more. Because Charles fucking Xavier was fucking perfect. Because Charles fucking Xavier is a fucking fraud. Because Charles fucking Xavier made me murder my own fucking father.”   
  
Erik felt his head sway and his blood turn to ice.   
  
And all too late did Erik feel the the soft hum of iron molecules gathered outside the slightly open doors of the one of the bunker's enclosed extensions.  
  
 _Charles_.  
  
~x~  
  
 **Snapshot: Day at the Zoo**  
  
Charles, aged 2 years and 20 weeks  
  
I've promised IberisGalloway (FF) for more snapshots following **The Proposal** , but I haven't had proper time to work on that yet, so here's a snapshot that was already in the pipeline.  
  
Haven't been to the Bronx Zoo (since the only part of the US I've been to is Hawaii :D), so I'm making everything up. And a bit of RPF fun in here too!  
  
~x~  
  
It was an unusually sunny and comfortably cool mid-autumn's day. Perfect weather to take Charles and the kids out for a day at the zoo. It was only the four of them though, with Ororo opting out of the trip, since she couldn't bear the sight of caged animals on display. She understood that zoos have done a good amount of work to save and help animals, and that those particular animals are probably safer there than released into the wild. But she still cannot stomach the sight.   
  
Jean, on the other hand had shyly begged to go, since she's heard so much about the place. Scott had tagged along too, much to the blushing delight of Jean, because he wanted to delay the inevitable one-on-one training Logan had been threatening with a horrifyingly crazy eyed smirk.   
  
~x~  
  
"Charles! ! It's your favorite! Teddies! !"  
  
Jean had ran up ahead of them and came back all aglow with excitement.   
  
At the mention of teddies, Charles chubby arms, snuggly covered in fluffy mittens flailed and flapped about in abundant vigor. The little boy tried to tilt his head back to look up at Erik, but one of the thick floppy ears on his beanie slid down and obstructed his view, and Erik was treated to Charles' familiar breathless snort-chuckling with moments of confusion thrown in.  
  
The bears must be one of the main attractions and hoards of people were already gathered with large flash cameras at the ready and children propped atop of father's shoulders. Erik gathered Charles tightly into his arms, and told Scott to keep a closer eye on Jean. With great effort, Erik managed to cut a path open for them to go right up to the front row, just in time to see a magnificent silver-brown grizzly stand upright and sniffing the air, right in their direction.  
  
"Look, Charles! It's huge! !"  
  
Charles who had been staring in awe at the sea of people from the vantage point of Erik's sturdy shoulder quickly snapped his head around, the flap of his hat smacking right into Erik's head. His blue eyes were bright and searching, and they remained all too wide when they landed on the animal in question.  
  
If eye's were windows into a person's soul, then Charles' eyes were certainly windows into his thinking. Every twitch and every blink was an indication of the synapses going off in this brain. And right now, the boy's brows were loudly declaring something was very wrong. Not a second later, Charles let out a ear blistering wail, and the water works began.  
  
"Charles!? What's wrong? It's a bear, no need to be afraid, my maus. It won't hurt you, not when I'm here."  
  
The boy only wailed louder, accidentally, or not, projecting into every single mind within a mile radius the confusion and disappointment that the so called 'teddy' was not a super intelligent blue furred being with otherworldly luminous golden eyes and tiny spectacles to aid him in his mad scientific experiments.  
  
"Oh maus... Th-this is what a real bear looks like. Teddy is.. well, Teddy. Special. One of a kind."  
  
~x~  
  
The tears finally stopped flowing when they reached the glass display Charles was currently half splayed over.  
  
"Pooooweeeezzzz~~"  
  
As if Charles' puppy eyes weren't enough, the combined forces of Jean and Scott's pleading eyes, through his opaque red lenses no less, was a force that should be harnessed and used for world domination. Erik was certain this was Scott's secondary mutation.  
  
The ice cream vendor looked at Erik with understanding and sympathy. He must witness this behavior all day.  
  
~  
  
The children were all quietly savoring their ice cream while sitting at a large picnic table, inclusive of large white and red umbrellas for shade.  
  
"Hello, may we share the table?"  
  
A tall lithe man with golden curls and a warm, easy smile walked up and gestured at the empty space on the other end of the large table. A small boy of around six with light ginger hair was using one of the man's arms as a swing, while his other arm awkwardly maneuvered an expensive looking stroller. With hidden reluctance, Erik gave a curt nod in wordless assent.   
  
“Michael, come sit down here with me. I'm Tom, that's Michael and this little one is James. You're a sitter too?”  
  
Tom sat a little closer than necessary next to Erik to allow room for Michael but the little boy refused to sit down where he was asked, and ran up to squeeze himself between Jean and Scott, earning him a rare glare from Jean. Erik held his breath for the inevitable onslaught of Charles' potty mouth, but to the utter dismay of Erik, Jean and Scott, Charles remained hard at work on eating ice cream one wobbly but determined spoonful at a time, not even bothering to eye out the new faces.  
  
 _Figures that ice cream is more important than my virtue._  
  
“Tom! I want ice cream too! What flavor's that?”  
  
The boy poked his head right up against Jean's cup and studied it with envy.  
  
“...strawberry.”  
  
“What's yours then? I like your glasses! Tom! Can I get red glasses too? It'll go with my hair!”  
  
“Err...thanks.. It's chocolate by the way.”  
  
“Okay Michael, let the nice people eat their ice cream in peace and perhaps then I'll get you some. I'm so sorry. Michael has quite the motor mouth.”  
  
Micheal ignored his guardian and stood up on the bench chair so that he could look over Erik's cup of steaming black coffee. At the sight of the black liquid, the boy's large blue-green eyes looked up into Erik's face as if the man was six feet worth of stupidity.   
  
“Mister, your ice cream's all melted. You shoulda eaten it while it was still cold. What flavor did you get?”  
  
The boy tilted his head at Charles, his voice softening ever so slightly as he asked the smaller boy who was busy stuffing his mouth with a spoonful of ice cream.  
  
“Yum! !”  
  
Charles beamed back at Michael, mouth slick with melted vanilla ice cream, his brows reaching his hairline to emphasize just how delicious his snack was. Michael blushed a little bit and smiled back.  
  
“Tom! ! ! I want some yum too! Let's go! ! Please! ! !”  
  
Michael's guardian had been busy trying to feed the tiny baby in his arms.  
  
“You're going to have to wait until I finish-”  
  
“Uhhh... he's already run off.”  
  
“Oh Shit! Shit I did not just swear in front of you all! C-could you please help me finish feeding James? He's not fussy at all. I-I'll be right back! I'm so terribly sorry! Thank you so much! Michael! !”  
  
Tom sort of shoved James and his bottle into Erik's hands, and ran off after Michael. Erik was left mouth open in disbelief and a tiny blue eyed baby who was flailing his arms at the bottle that was no longer in his mouth. Before the baby had a chance to notice the change in surroundings, Erik quickly returned the bottle at the baby's mouth, and James kicked his tiny legs in thanks.  
  
“He looks just like you Charles!”   
  
At Jean's comment Charles snaps out of his ice cream daze and peers around the table to see what she was referring to. Charles' little jaw nearly breaks off, and his small plastic spoon clatters onto the wooden bench top at the sight he found. Erik was holding, feeding and smiling fondly down at a not-Charles-baby, and the boy was having none of that.  
  
Erik felt an eager tug at his leather jacket. He turned to face Charles who had his mouth smooshed together in tight fishy lips, patiently waiting for Erik to bottle feed him too.  
  
“Maus, this is James' bottle. You have your ice cream.”  
  
The boy frowned and tugged harder at his jacket, head tilted towards the now untouched ice cream cup, silently telling Erik to hand feed him ice cream, his mouth was still pouted out.  
  
“I'll be with you in a moment, maus.”   
  
Charles' expression was as if Erik had cheated on him and poured the ice cream down his pants at the same time. Never in the history of living beings had a glare of such intensity been witnessed.   
  
“Charles! Bad boy! James is just a little baby, you must not glare at him. You're older than him, you must set a better example, like Jean, Ro and Scott does.”  
  
The boy's epic pout and watery eyes let everyone know he didn't want anything to do with setting a good example, not when Erik's attention was on the line. Charles climbed on to the bench seat, and forced himself an opening onto Erik's lap, right up into the space of his current nemesis. James noticed the new addition of warmth and kicked his legs in glee, only for Charles' angry face to be on the receiving end of an extra high leg flick.  
  
“E-Erie...”  
  
“No, Charles. I know it didn't hurt.”  
  
Charles scowled and side glared at the sack of wiggling flesh again.  
  
“No! Erie mine! !”  
  
“Charles! It's only for a moment, you have to be a good boy until the man comes back.”  
  
“No! No wanna sharing! No Erie sharing! Mine! My Erie mine! !”  
  
Charles attempted to bat Erik's hands away from James, but James' bitty hands caught on to Charles' only slightly larger hand and clutched on tightly, swinging it about triumph. It was possibly the cutest thing happening in the world that moment. It was also enough to shock Charles into an almost involuntary chuckle.   
  
“He likes you, maus. Can you be a good bigger brother to him?”  
  
Bright blue eyes meets even brighter blue eyes, and Charles slides closer to James, his free hand reaching to help Erik feed James his bottle.  
  
“'ma good brolla!”  
  
Not a moment later Tom runs back to the table after Micheal, who got himself a large scoop of vanilla ice cream and once again squeezed himself between the two older children.  
  
“Thank you so much! I hope James wasn't too much trouble. Oh! Hey there, looks like James has taken a shine to you, big guy.”  
  
Charles offers Tom a small distracted smile without taking his eyes off James' small hand still waving around his. Tom settles down beside Erik, even closer than before, their thighs almost brushing together. Not wanting Charles to make another scene, Erik places the half empty bottle out of James' on the table, and hands the baby back to his guardian, only to be stopped by a some odd force.  
  
It was James, who refused to let go of Charles' hand. Charles looked incredulous.  
  
“J-James?”  
  
Tom tried to gently pry James' tiny hand open, only to have the baby let out a monstrously deep shriek. Charles patted at James' clutched hand to try to soothe the little baby, but James continued to bawl his eyes out. Out of nowhere, Michael appeared with an exasperated sigh.  
  
“Jamesy, hug.”  
  
The baby calmed down immediately when he heard Michael's voice, and finally let go of Charles' hand only to grab onto Michael, and were both then helped onto the seating by Tom. Charles looked disappointed for a flash second, but smirked when he saw that Erik was rightfully his alone again. Tom watched Charles snuggle into Erik's jacket with a bemused smile.  
  
“You're really good with children.”  
  
“...ugh.. thanks... You seem pretty good with them yourself.”  
  
A deep blush crept up Tom's cheeks, but just as he opens his mouth to say something back to Erik, Charles cuts in waving his small middle finger.   
  
“Go way hoar!”  
  
Tom could not leave the Zoo fast enough, what with Michael loudly begging to know what “hoar” meant, and loudly complaining that he couldn't have said a bad word if he doesn't know what “hoar” means.  
  
And just like that, all's right again in Charles Xavier's world.


	13. Thirteen and Winter Heats Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm indescribably guilty about the slow updates as of late, life and work has conspired against my fanficcing ways. I hope people are still interested in this story! Thank you as always for the wonderful reviews and continued support with the kudos/favs/alerts, they really do mean so much to me! I had a few other parts plotted for this chapter, but felt it was getting too long, so the next chapter will provide development of a few more sub-plots.
> 
> Merry Christmas and spectacular new year ya'll! As a small seasonal gift (and slow update apology gift) here's a super long update, AND I'll be updating in a day or so a small interlude snapshot!
> 
> So the rating really has gone up, forgot to do so last time. Also, all this is un-beta'ed, pretty obvious, I know, and I'm extremely sorry for all the mistakes that my crappy editing has still not combed out.
> 
> Warnings: Under-aged hard ons for persons not under-aged.

"How much did you hear?"  
  
Charles refused to look Erik in the eye, and instead he groveled at the ground, hands fidgeting at the hem of his woolen top.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"You're a horrible liar, maus."  
  
"What does it matter what I heard anyway!?"  
  
The boy's head snapped up, and instead of teary blue eyes Erik had braced for on hearing Charles' broken voice, it was a face of rage and bitterness that looked up, but still refusing direct eye contact. Erik was frozen in place with shock, with which Charles took full advantage and pushed Erik out of the way so that he could run out of the bunker.   
  
"Charles! Wai-"  
  
Erik was a few steps into following after Charles when the door behind him swung casually open, and Cain Marko stepping out with an unreadable expression, his thick masculine arms crossed tightly at his chest, but he body leaning lazily at the door frame.   
  
"That his son?"  
  
"He's not who-"  
  
"Boy's a splitting image of that fucker, so don't waste your breath."  
  
"You will leave the children out of this."  
  
"And why would I do that. What's he to you anyway? You're too dedicated to him to be the help. One of his pathetic pet causes then?”  
  
“We worked alongside each other.”  
  
Erik's face was dark and his body was stiff. The statement in past tense certainly piqued Cain's interest and he tilted his head and smirked.  
  
“And let me guess... It didn't turn out very well. For you.”  
  
“I wouldn't say that.”  
  
 _It didn't turn out well for either of us._  
  
"There's never going to be any working with him, there's only ever going to be working for him. His ego's too big. He's always going to be right, and you'll always be wrong. That's how things work in his world."  
  
Erik clenched his jaw together tight so that a gasp could not escape his mouth. That statement had rung so many truths, he had to force the iron in his blood to slowdown before his body swayed.  
  
This was the Charles he knew as an adult. The Charles he paralyzed on the beach. The Charles who would eventually return and become more of a foe than ally. He doesn't know how to reconcile this Charles with the Charles they have all gotten to know and watch grow up in the last few months...  
  
His eyes slowly slid shut at the guilt that had already begun to burn at his insides.  
  
“What if I told you I could change that.”  
  
Cain stared back at Erik with more curiosity than suspicion, and the hint of triumph could not be missed. He knew he had hit a sore spot with the leaner man.  
  
“Go on.”  
  
~x~  
  
Charles let his legs take him as fast as they could away from that place. Away from the man that had severely wounded his friends. The man who accused him of something so out of this world. So out of his comprehension. However, who he desperately needed to run away from was Erik. Charles could not believe Erik would take that man's word over his, but he obviously had. Why else would he be wearing that helmet constantly now? Why else would he have been spending so much time down in the bunker. The only conclusion the young teen could reach was that Erik was on that man's side.   
  
That he had lost Erik.  
  
And with that thought, Charles' legs gave way, and he crumbled to the ground, knees making loud thuds when they hit the wooden floor boards. He doesn't feel the pain though, only wet streaks of cooling tears dripping down his cheeks, off his chin.  
  
~  
  
When Charles' mind finally cleared through it's dizzy haze, the boy found himself crouched within himself in a dark corner of the roof attic, his face itchy from the dried tears. It must be late afternoon now, the sky was loosing it's white cloudy gray to darker ashy gray. The thick blanket of low clouds have been threatening rain since the day before, but Ororo took this as an opportunity to hone in on her powers. Something she has been doing vigilantly since the man had attacked them. He lost himself in thought again, staring out the row of dust covered windows, and did not notice someone coming up.  
  
“Charles? Are you in here?”  
  
Raven appeared head first as he stepped up into the attic. She had spent a few days undercover at the Worthingtons, but her alias had been given mandatory vacation time, so she was back at the mansion for a long weekend.   
  
The dull weather made the attic felt doubly dark and damp. The darkness brought out Raven's golden eyes, and they seemed to gleam brighter when she found him in his corner.  
  
“What's wrong? You ran passed us then disappeared upstairs for hours...”  
  
Under the minimum light, Raven saw the expression she never wanted to see on Charles again. The same blank expression he had went he had just lost his father.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
“...why is the man still here?”  
  
Raven had been against the idea of Cain being allowed to stay in the mansion, not matter how hidden away and imprisoned Erik had guaranteed. But she knew the consequences if Sinister got wind of Cain, and managed to get his hands on him.   
  
“For everyone's safety.”  
  
The boy looked up confounded. Raven knew there was no use lying to him.  
  
“He knows about us, about our weaknesses. If the wrong people met him-”  
  
“Sinister?”  
  
The scales on Raven's skin rose automatically at the thought of having her mind trespassed so easily, completely without her knowing. Before all this, before Cuba, Charles had an agreement with her. He would not trespass into her mind without her consent or her knowing, and she would not shift carelessly in public. Then, when Charles became a toddler, Raven supposed he was still figuring out his telepathic abilities, so she'd let any uninvited entry slide, but she'd always feel his unique mental signature, an inexplicable smoothness. However, just now, she didn't feel a thing. It made her automatically clamp up all her mental walls, like how Emma taught her.   
  
“S-sorry, I didn't mean to read your mind. It's been very taxing to suppress it lately. Everyone's surface thoughts are like broadcasts-”  
  
“Puberty?”  
  
Raven remarked, more to herself, but it had Charles blushing and ducking his head downwards.  
  
“I-I guess. I didn't think it would affect my telepathy, but I guess it makes sense. It seems puberty was the trigger for a few of the other's manifestations.”   
  
“I can tell you it's going to be a frustrating few months until you finally get a handle on it. I remember when I hit puberty and I became this sort of walking mirror. Couldn't leave the house until you- I mean until I learned how to control it on top of getting pimples.”  
  
Charles' face scrunched into a mix of disgust and amusement.  
  
“Eww! Pimples! I don't want them!”  
  
“Then you'll have to lay off the fries and the sweets.”  
  
“But I read that it's got nothing to do with food. It's mostly genetics and keeping clean and hydrated.”  
  
“You've been studying up on this?”  
  
Raven fought hard to suppress laughing at the image of a teenaged Charles studiously flipping through piles of books in dedicated concentration to learn all about puberty, and everything else in the world. It took her right back to when it was just the two of them, with Raven purposefully misplacing books and taking out bookmarks in an attempt to grab Charles' attention.  
  
“I-I get bored at school! It's quieter in the library than listening to mind's screaming every three seconds about... you know...”  
  
Charles blushes a deep red, and his hands are flailing about, expressing something he's too shy to say to her.  
  
“Sex!? Oh that's just nasty! Wow! That's just... rough. O-other than suffering from being bombarded with d-dirty thoughts, how are you enjoying school.”  
  
It was easy to forget that they were a part of Charles memories at the moment, that he had a life outside of them that he was going through at the same time. When Raven had first met Charles, he was already self studying with books given to first year university students, and he'd stopped physically attending school so that he could take care of her.  
  
“It's taxing. Everyone thinks I'm a rich, stuck up genius who's been given everything on a golden platter. Not that it isn't true, but I like it best at home with all of you... w-when you're all here. I don't like it when Cain's here... o-or when Mother shuts herself into her boudoir.”  
  
Back when they had first brought the others back to the mansion, Raven truly had been only joking about softening Charles' hardship. She's still having sleepless nights thinking over how she had missed what was happening to Charles all those years ago. Charles must have picked up her turmoil and cuddled close beside her, clearing fighting the urge to peek into her mind right now. Raven reacted automatically by patting his soft brown hair and letting his head rest on her lap.  
  
“I'm starting to think Mother really doesn't know any of your existence in her drunken daze. Which might not be a bad thing, really... I do wish Cain would treat me as if I don't exist...”  
  
“And Kur- Your stepfather? He's still not laid a hand on you, right?”  
  
Raven cannot help remembering the horrible sight of witnessing the beatings Cain received from his father, and had Cain reemerged into her life in a different circumstance, she would have felt a lot more compassion for the man.  
  
“No, Kurt treats me quite well, if only a bit like his prized specimen. He's thinking of having Cain attend his last years of high school here...and then a nearby university. I... I'm accumulating extra credit so that I can attend university as soon as possible... Are you all willing to leave with me too?”  
  
All those years ago, Raven didn't think she had a choice in following Charles to Oxford, that Charles was all she had in the world. Now she knows that he needed her just as much as she needed him.  
  
“I can't say for the others, but I'll be with you.”  
  
Perhaps it was selfish and cowardly of her to offer these comforting statements to Charles when she knew ultimately she would leave him, probably under one of the worst circumstances, but Raven knew she wasn't strong enough to be the one to tell Charles the truth, to be the one to shatter his perception that they can all live harmoniously together here.  
  
~  
  
Erik found Charles in the hidden attic, his head leaning on Raven's lap while they both sat on the floor.   
  
“May I come in?”  
  
His hands tightened into a painful grip when Charles flinched at hearing Erik's voice. The flinch had not escaped Raven's notice either, and the intricately patterned scales on her forehead moved in confusion. Those yellow orbs peered into Erik's eyes, and he knew Raven will be grilling him about this later, but she knew enough not to make a scene right now in front of the apprehensive teen.  
  
“Dinner time already?”  
  
Erik sent her what he hoped was his most grateful look, and climbed up into the attic completely, but remained crouched down on one knee.  
  
“Yes... But I'd like to talk to Charles first. Alone, if that's okay.”  
  
Charles kept his face downward cast, and followed closely behind Raven like a kicked puppy.  
  
“I-I'm hungry... I'd like to go have dinner now... please.”  
  
The tight, sour pang Erik felt pouring from his chest from Charles' reluctance to look at him, nor to talk to him made it a fight for Erik to breathe. He could barely watch as Raven let Charles exit the attic first. Only when Raven brushed passed him and gave the top of his head a quirked eye look did Erik realize his mistake of leaving his helmet on. He hadn't meant anything by it, he's just become used to the weight of the helmet again, and the added level of comfort the metal gives to him. But his carelessness yet again formed a fissure in his bond with Charles.   
  
Erik slid off the helmet and attempted to send apologetic and m soothing thoughts to Charles, but the teen either plainly ignored them, or ha shut his telepathy off somehow. He had little choice but to follow Charles and Raven to the dining room where Angel was batting Logan's hands away from stealing the food that had already been placed on the large table. Charles immediately immersed himself with helping finish setting up the table and mentally calling those who have not joined them yet.   
  
Dinner was an awkward affair that night. A heavy blanket of unease settled among them, and everyone tried extra hard to make small talk, which led to a bizarre conversation between Azazel, Logan and Hank about facial hair care. It didn't help matters when at one end of the table sat a silent and brooding Erik, clearly attempting some sort of puppy eye on Charles, but failing completely. It was blatantly obvious the teen on the opposite end of the table was avoiding his normally favorite adult, looking everywhere but straight across from him, and more than a few eyebrows were raised, but nobody dared get in between the two.  
  
 _Charles, please, I think we need to talk.  
  
_ The teen flinched slightly, his knife making a painful screech on his plate. The teen bit at his lips and went back to cutting up his piece of medium rare roasted steak fillet with a vengeance.   
  
_How about a game of chess. Just you and I. We won't talk about anything you don't want to talk about._  
  
At long last, Charles' brilliant blue eyes took a tentative peek up across the table at Erik, and the man released the breath he didn't know he was holding when Charles' eyes softened, and his cheeks take on a hint of pink.   
  
_Okay... I'd like that.  
  
~  
  
_A game of chess easily turned into three, currently with Erik in the lead. They played in silence, and the atmosphere between them had lost most of the previous harsh intensity, but both remained on edge. Erik was contemplating whether to move his bishop or rook when Charles broke the silence. _  
  
_“I've never met him before! I don't- I wouldn't do that, you know. Not to anyone... I don't think I would. I-I wouldn't be able to go ahead with it... Oh God! W-what if I had somehow made him kill-”  
  
“Charles-”  
  
“And that's why he's here! For revenge on me! It's because of me everyone got hurt!”  
  
Charles' body was trembling in anguish and panic, his was rambling and his voice got higher and more broken as he went on. Erik moved quickly to take the teen into a strong embrace, mentally sending him calming thoughts.  
  
“Sshhh... You cannot blame yourself. It was out of your control, out of all of our control.”  
  
“But you believe him! You're on his side!”  
  
Tears had built up in those blue eyes looking imploringly at him, and Erik had to pull back in utter shock at what he had just heard.  
  
“What on earth would make you think that?”  
  
"How can I not!? Y-you've been walking about with the helmet on all the time now. It's not because of Emma, she's hardly here. It's not because of Jean since you always have a smile ready for her. So it must be me! You only look at with disappointment now! We don't ever do things together anymore!"  
  
Erik's mind went numb for a few seconds before running overtime to recollect his actions during the last month. Yes, he'd been wearing his helmet around the mansion on a regular basis, but it was really because he could not get over the image of Sinister's final unnerving smirk before he called for his posse to back down and leave Hellfire. He couldn't figure the man's motives. They had been quite evenly matched, much to Erik's frustration, but in an instant, Sinister seemingly raised a white flag and even conceded Hellfire to them. Emma had not been able to penetrate through Sinister's own mental walls, and the little of what she managed to see in those three other men, was of no help in explaining Sinister's sudden withdrawal. The anxiety still lingers with him, and he's lost count of the restless nights he spent worrying whether Sinister was going to show up at Westchester.  
  
That is why he cannot let Cain Marko leave. Not yet.   
  
He has only ever known one way to deal with any of his vulnerabilities, and this is to tackle it full on, to make it obsolete, to bury it, preferably under layers of metal, and the helmet allows him to do so. Allows him to feel safe just that little bit more.  
  
“Charles... I'm truly sorry that I've led you to think I don't care for you, that I'm disappointed or that I'm not on your side...”  
  
Erik tilted Charles downcast face up so they were eye to eye. He may have needed to bend the truth with Charles about things happening around the mansion, but this was one truth that will remain.  
  
“Whatever I do, I choose to do to better our lives. You will always be at the forefront of my concerns. Promise me that you'll remember that I will always have your best interest at heart.”  
  
He uses a finger to wipe away the tears nearly dripping out of Charles' eyes, and the young teen leans forward into his touch, closing his eyes and relaxes himself.  
  
“...I promise.”  
  
There was a certain look in Charles' eyes that made Erik feel warm and at the same time heartbroken and guilty. He knew that look. He has only seen it a handful of times in his life. It was also the look Charles had in his eyes right before Cuba. That last night, when they played their final game of Chess. It was a look Erik would not dare name, and he believed he really should not encourage, nor that he deserved it. So he gave Charles' shoulders a friendly squeeze before turning to go back to his seat.  
  
“Come on, I believe I was winning yet another round.”  
  
For only a moment, so brief that Erik misses it, ache and desolation flickered across Charles' face, but the teen pulled himself together and managed in one blink to put on a well schooled expression of joviality.  
  
“I'm certain I was a few moves away from taking down your king.”  
  
~x~  
  
Repairs to the mansion have been going steady for the last month. Alex, Sean and Hank utilized this as an opportunity to implement the upgrade modifications that were being planned before Charles turned into a pile of squeals wrapped in a diaper.   
  
Luckily, Hank's laboratory was not damaged in Cain's onslaught, or else his time would have been consumed with rebuilding the chamber with which Charles still receives his weekly treatments. Scott had even suggested that Sean and his brother, the two of them still severely injured and without rapid healing powers, also take advantage of Hank's technology to speed up their recovery, only to have Alex visibly blanch at the idea. Sean knew Alex still inwardly blamed Hank and that pressure chamber for Charles' condition, and he didn't want any friction between them so he stepped in and declined for them, stating that they didn't want to risk irreversible changes to the settings for Charles' treatments.  
  
“You've truly got a knack for resolving tension before it even starts.”  
  
Logan had witnessed the whole thing, and even though he wasn't here most of the time, nor does he make it a habit of having a heart to heart talk with anyone in the mansion, he somehow knew exactly what was happening all the time.   
  
The muscular man had been leaning silently against the wall, nursing a bottle of beer after a morning of hard labor around the house, and finally spoke when the others have left the room, leaving just him and Sean.  
  
“What can I say, I like to avoid conflict if possible.”  
  
“And that's what I don't get. Blondie doesn't really fit with _Charles' half_ of the household.”  
  
Sean had to admit he's thought along those lines as well. There are moments when Alex reminded him of the Erik he used to know. Rage driven and intend on seeking revenge no matter what it would cost. But Alex still has an anchor.  
  
“Alex fits in here fine. And he's got Scot-”  
  
“You ever think what'll happen when Scott no longer needs Alex?”  
  
“They're brothers, they'll always need each other.”  
  
“I had someone I considered a brother once... And let's just say if I ever see him again, I won't hesitate to rip his throat out.”  
  
Sean doesn't miss the lingering pain layered underneath the cold anger of Logan's statement. Nor does he miss the unsettling parallel to Charles and Eric's friendship. He wants to believe Charles' accident gave them another chance at working together peacefully, but he knew as and when Charles' memories are recovered the clash of ideologies will increase.  
  
“Then what about you? Where do you stand?”  
  
Logan took one final swig of his beer and made his way out of the room.  
  
“...it's best if I stand alone.”  
  
~  
  
Logan would rather put on a pair yellow spandex than admit he had enjoyed this longer than his usual brisk and freeloading stay at the mansion. Time had flew by when there was just so much repairs and upgrading to do around the house.  
  
But it was definitely time to leave. Before he was even more deeply attached to this place, and the residents inside it.  
  
Logan packed up his things with a familiar efficiency, albeit haphazardly and messily. He feigned concentration, pointedly ignoring the person he can sense behind his half open door.  
  
"Why wont you stay?"  
  
Jean finally spoke. She had been standing out of sight for ten minutes, but Logan doesn't need to see to know who was there.  
  
"Like I said before, this animal just can't be caged."  
  
Jean gave him a flat unamused, though secretly amused, look. A look which in the coming years Logan would realize was reserved solely for him.  
  
"But you like it here."  
  
The man heaved a sigh and looked straight into Jean's forest green eyes with a broken gentleness that startled the girl a bit.  
  
"And that's exactly why I can't stay."  
  
Before he knew it, Logan had grown too fond of this place, of the feeling of belonging, of the people here, and of a particular sprightly little redhead. He's been kicking himself over just how much he's let them in, and let himself allow his guard down. The last time he did that, the woman he loved had been murdered by a man he should have known not to trust.  
  
A man who is now somehow mixed up with Erik and the others. If he stays with them for longer, his scent could linger of them, and if that man picks up on it... Logan's claws itched to slash out of his skin at the thought of what was at stake. Jean walked into the room and sat down on the bed, next to his half packed duffel.   
  
"Can I look into your mind? Ro says it's not good to keep all that darkness to yourself, maybe I can help you."  
  
"This is something you can't help me with. Besides, you're too young and too pretty to see all the despicable things I've done."  
  
Jean huffs and pouts, green eyes going a few shades darker.  
  
"I can handle it!"  
  
Logan chuckles and flicks away stray strands of lush red hair out of Jean's eyes.  
  
"I'll make you a deal. I'll let you get a peek into my mind on our first date."  
  
The girl stepped back looking flabbergasted and blushing intensely.  
  
"I-I can't date you! I like Sco- I-I mean I... Y-you're ancient! !”  
  
Logan barked out a laugh, and just like that, the bitter tension that was winding within the man had come undone. He should be concerned just how much Jean affected him, and he'd hate to think what it really would be like to know Jean as a woman.  
  
“You really ought to tell him ya'know. That kid is unbelievably dense when it comes to cute little girls salivating after him.”  
  
“S-shut up! I-I do not salivate after him! Come on, lunch is nearly ready!”  
  
Jean manhandles the man triple her size out of the room towards the dining room, blushing beet red when Scott hands her a plate of sandwiches.   
  
It would be years later when Logan would complain loudly for near an hour how he should have never encouraged Jean to act on her crush for Scott, and Jean would just smile and quietly reminisce while sipping on some tea.  
  
~x~  
  
Sean had left early in the day to go to the Worthingtons estate as an official representative of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. The Worthington's seemed to have known Brian and Sharon Xavier and are fully impressed with Charles accomplishments as well as his school. No doubt with Emma hovering nearby as Mrs. Worthington's Personal Assistant, Sean's meeting with them about Warren's admittance to, as well as general guardianship by, the School went as smooth as the large pearl ring on the madam's finger.  
  
By midday, to the minds and memories of all those left in that vast estate, Warren Worthington had undergone a successful surgery for spinal injury, and was now moving to the best and most elite educational institute befitting for a young man of his stature.  
  
Moira kept her mouth tightly shut, and a hand held securely with Warren's.  
  
~  
  
Sean slowly walked towards the threshold of the newly installed mahogany double front doors that were lined with three inches adamantium within. A deathly thin teenage boy with ashy gray skin clung tightly with both hands onto Sean's left arm. His light blonde hair looked dull and easily breakable, and his blue eyes were red rimmed and offset by deep dark circles under them. To the other side of the battered looking teen walked Moira, face stricken and close to tears, a protective arm on the teen's shoulder, almost obstructing the young man's pair of trembling wings. Wings that looked exactly as Moira had previously described, fleshy pink with barely any feathers. The feathers that were left barely looked like feather at all, dull and rumpled, they mostly looked like feathers that have gone through a storm of muddy water.   
  
Behind them walked Emma and Raven who bore a mix of despaired and relieved expressions on her face. It was as if Sean had reached some understanding with them at the Worthington's that Warren will go under his wing and not be exposed until absolutely necessary the violent side of their lives here.  
  
So as to not overwhelm the teen, very few of the adult where at the door to greet him, only the children and Hank, who stood as a symbol that Warren was coming to a place of equals.   
  
As Sean neared the entrance way, Warren suddenly stopped and looked at him with a pleading look. The red haired man thought Warren was having doubts about the place and sought to assure him that this place was safe. Warren gently took Moira's arm off his shoulders, and looked back at the house with a determined expression. Then Sean understood. Warren wanted to make his own way into the house. A real beginning for himself. So Sean stepped through into the foyer, and turned to greet him.  
  
"Welcome home, Warren."  
  
The young man swayed on his legs without the physical support, but Moira had figured it out too, so she had given him the space he needed.   
  
“Wow... an angel!”  
  
Jean was huddled next to Ororo and Charles, and her voice was full of wonder. Warren returned the same look of awe to Jean, only his face flushed, bringing with it a healthy glow to his sun deprived skin. It would be the first time Moira had seen a genuine smile on his face.  
  
“...I'm h-home.”  
  
~  
  
"M-miss Fros-st... I-I'd like to a-ask a favor of you.. P-please."  
  
Now Emma was not one to hand out favors. To anyone. It's a lesson she's learned early in life. However, she can't ignore a young mutant in need. Especially one who had been locked away and tortured since wings sprouted out from his back when he hit puberty.   
  
"You'll need to tell me what this favor is, sugar. I'm not in the habit of taking on more than I can handle.”  
  
“It-it's nothing that'll h-hurt anyone... Jean said t-that she's n-not powerful enough yet to... Please, wipe my head clean. I want a clean slate. I-I want to be of use here, and not...”  
  
Warren's voice cracks, and the effort from keeping the tears at bay made him stutter even more than usual.  
  
“N-not some fragile l-loser, w-who can't even speak w-without choking.”  
  
Emma was currently given a golden opportunity. The young man was offering her his mind, without knowing the full consequences of his request. What was even more fascinating was the fact that Jean had not deterred Warren from such action. It was a almost certain if an adult Charles was around, he'd be all over this with knitted gloves and patronizing words about how Warren   
  
If she were a united force with Jean Grey, then the possibilities are boundless. Nathaniel Essex would be no match at all. And neither would Charles Xavier.   
  
“And Jean would have done this for you, had she been powerful enough?”  
  
“W-well Jean didn't r-really say.. J-just said you're m-more powerful.”  
  
It wasn't a wholly positive answer, but it was a start. Emma knew she had to play this with utmost caution. If the others, even Erik, find out, it may turn out to be a move against them.  
  
“How about this. I allow you to retain your memories up until your manifestation. I clear your memories of all the pain you suffered after, but not your feelings towards your human relatives.”  
  
Of course, she was not going to completely play safe, and she will be stirring up the bitterness and anger just a little more.  
  
“Y-yeah.. Let's try that.”  
  
Emma's well drawn lips lifted ever so slightly as she gestured for Warren to take a seat next to her.  
  
~x~  
  
“Charles was right to question why you're still keeping Cain here. It's been a month, and I know you've had Emma deal with him already. Why not just wipe his memories and throw him out? What aren't you telling me?”  
  
Raven had understood why Erik wanted to keep Cain around in the beginning. She agreed that it was the best option in a shitty situation. But now, this arrangement does no one any favors. They can't even go down and do repairs on Cerebro because of him.   
  
“I haven't finished with him yet.”  
  
Erik sat at Charles' large classically elegant desk, sifting through new piles of government files Janos and Azazel had brought in a few days ago. He had not looked away from what he was reading when he answered.  
  
“Look, I know I should trust you, and you know what, most of the time I do. Unwaveringly so. But _this_? _This_ I need to know in every detail. What's he telling you? In fact, what are you telling him?”  
  
The man sighed and dropped the files onto the table.  
  
“What do you know about Kurt Marko's death?”  
  
“Kurt? I told you before. It was a fire, an accident.”  
  
“A laboratory fire accident.”  
  
“Yeah, so?”  
  
“Much like how Brian Xavier died. A death Charles blames on Kurt.”  
  
Raven stepped right up to the front of the desk and looked at Erik as if he'd just accused her.  
  
“...w-what are you saying? That you think Charles set the fire? What the hell!”  
  
“I know he didn't set the fire. Cain said he was in the laboratory when the fire started.”  
  
“I... still don't know what you're trying to get at.”  
  
“Cain believes Charles warped his mind so that he would start the fire.”  
  
“No... that's impossi- No! Kurt didn't die in the fire, he died from inhaling too much carbon monoxide. He managed to get Charles and I out first, then went back in for Cain.”  
  
“Look, it doesn't even matter if Charles did somehow influence Cain or not. I would understand if he had. The issue here is that Cain believes so, and that is his reason for the attack. For revenge.”  
  
“No. I-it doesn't make sense. You saw Charles' what their relationship was like even before Brian and Charles was part of their lives. Cain was abused by Kurt, his animosity towards him had developed long before he and Charles lived under the same roof. In any case, why can't you just ask Emma to wipe his mind?”  
  
“I... had hoped to convince him to join us.”  
  
With obvious reluctance, Erik manages to maintain direct eye contact with Raven.  
  
“...were you using Charles as some kind of leverage?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Erik replied without batting an eye. The shapeshifter run her hands up her forehead and through her hair in frustration, then heaved a defeated sigh.  
  
“Fine. But Cain doesn't find out who I am. To him, I'm Mystique. And he leaves this place. He leaves the people who will remain here alone.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
There was a degree of relief in Erik's eyes when he returned to reading the files before him. Raven knew that meant the end of the conversation, and she trusted Erik to take what necessary action to allow for her requests to be upheld. She wasn't sure when she had placed so much trust in Erik, but she can't help it, even when she knows Erik doesn't return that same level of trust.   
  
~x~  
  
Erik stood under the hot rapid water, massaging the tense muscles of his shoulders and down his back. His eyes were closed so that he could focus on the slighting burning, yet relaxing sensation of the water to help him clear his mind, if only for this short moment. The building steam had made it more difficult to breathe, but somehow that combined with is heart pounded within his chest also helped to ease his mind. That is why he had no idea someone had even entered into the bathroom, let alone the shower box, until a finger trailed down his spine.  
  
"Maus!? W-what are you doing in here?"  
  
Charles stood silently mesmerized by Erik's naked form, by the steaming water flowing down a well toned chest, with just a hint of hair in the middle. He was mesmerized by the droplets of water beading across on Erik's skin, and he reaches up with a trembling finger to trace after one drop that had slowly made its way down, down, down...  
  
“Charles, stop!”  
  
Erik grabbed at Charles' wandering hand and held it firmly between them.  
  
“Y-you don't know what you're doing.”  
  
He doesn't know exactly how he got here, nor does he remember taking all his clothes off, but Charles was sure he wanted to do exactly this. With Erik. Right now.  
  
“I know what I'm doing. I know what I feel, and I-”  
  
“Charles, we can't. You're just a-”  
  
“Don't. Don't call me a boy.”   
  
Erik's gray green eyes took on an iridescent blue hue under the steam-filled incandescent light. In them Charles could see shock, guilt, conflict, and despair but more importantly the growing dilation of his pupils.   
  
Lust and want.   
  
Charles was sure even Erik could feel that his heart skipped several beats, his whole being going unbearably hot as he slipped his wrist out of Erik's hand, emboldened by the very fact the man's hold on his wrist had so little strength in it. He took loved closer and closer into Erik's space, forcing the man to move back, straight under the full force of the hot water still showering down, until Charles was drenched too, until Erik was backed into the finely detailed mosaic wall. The teen was finding it difficult to breathe, not merely because of nerves, but because the heat was heavy and thick, making his heart and his lung work triple time. He had only just begun his growth spurt, and Charles was more than a little proud that his nether regions have been steadily growing, if not his height yet, thus he had to stand on his tip toes, bracing his weight on Erik's tones wall of a chest, letting his eyes slide shut the nearer his lips were to Erik's.   
  
That fist tentative contact with Erik's lips was not as magical or mind numbing as Charles' vivid and hyperactive imagination, and he would have stopped right there. Only Erik opened his mouth, whether to gasp, or say something to reprimand him, he doesn't know or care, then Charles instinctively slid his tongue into that opening.   
  
Charles melts into the kiss, and it soon becomes all too wet and all too hot, but he wasn't going to stop. His hands grasp at Erik's broad shoulders, feeling the taut tense muscles beneath that layer of burning skin. He tugs Erik even closer, meshes their body inline with each other, fitting not yet perfectly together, but still offering a delicious friction if their combines moans were any indication. Charles can't help himself, he wants to know, what to feel like how Erik feels, so he slides a hand upwards, towards the man's temple...  
  
But he felt nothing.  
  
It was cold and empty.   
  
Just like as if Erik had that helmet on.  
  
And then all the heat suddenly leaves their surrounding space. The body grinding onto his own wasn't there. Wasn't real... Gone.  
  
Charles woke shivering and panting. His body was not shivering from cold, but from something his mind was too fuzzy to get a proper grasp on. He found himself sweating and flushed. Then he felt a cooling wetness down below, between his legs, under the all too warm, heavy duvet.  
  
 _Bloody_. _Hell_.  
  
~x~  
  
Snapshot: The Married Life  
  
Charles aged 4  
  
The chocolate wrapping part is inspired by one of my favorite TV commercials growing up in NZ. I can't remember which chocolate covered almond brand it was for, so I couldn't find a link for that ridiculously charming ad, if anyone knows, holla me!  
Also the TV show mentioned below is a few years off the timeline, but meh, close enough.  
  
As mention before, I promised IberisGalloway (FF) with more scenes in Charles and Erik's 'married life' so here be the first, and I've got at least one more to add to their marriage!  
Also [Kika de Apus](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1078201/Kika-de-Apus) (FF) wanted to see jealous!Erik, so here's a taster, there shall be jealous!Erik coming up in the main plot ;)  
  
~x~  
  
"Well look at you, maus. Getting all dressed up. What's the occasion?"  
  
Erik walked out of the bathroom after a close shave to the sight of Charles buttoning up his little crisp white shirt with navy stripes, pink tongue sticking out and brows knotted in deep concentration. He hadn't been aware of any special plans for the day, and Raven has not mentioned it was x  
  
Ever since Charles' proposal, the boy had slept with his 'wife' in 'their' bed every night, normally somehow hogging most of the bed, drooling over Erik's shoulder, and subconsciously also hogging blankie. Yes, even blankie, together with Loki and Thor had migrated over onto 'their' bed. Charles was that committed.  
  
“Work!”  
  
“Wo-work?”  
  
"Uh-huh! So you can have bacon and bread for dinner!"  
  
“Riiight.. Thank you so much, but that's really not necessary, maus.”  
  
“But if you don't eat bacon, the children can't go to university! I have to work for our children.”  
  
Charles stated while he struggled to put his little mini tweed vest, turning in circles to try to get his arm through the sleeve opening. The man didn't even know tweet vests came in children's sizes. Standing just at the edge of 'their' bed is Erik, wearing only his gray sweat pants and a damp towel around his neck, mouth quivering from his brain's indecision to produce what to say next.  
  
The man had tried to put an end to _this_ , _this_ being Charles' bizarre idea of marriage and had thus far failed miserably. He really needed to tell Raven, Angel and Sean to stop filling Charles' head with nonsense, and no more of that Brady Bunch crap either, he knew there was something creepy lurking under all those perfectly placed smiles. No one else in the mansion understood of course, it's all amusingly funny and cute to them. The only one who suffered was Erik.  
  
Charles finally won his fight with his vest and now has his little legs lifted high so he could tug on some miniature navy colored socks, which proved to be a more difficult task for the child since his arms were still short and his slacks gave little stretch.  
  
"Aaaand where do you work exactly?"   
  
"The office!"  
  
There was a tiny hint of 'duh' in Charles' expression, but it was mostly still adoration for his newly wedded bride. Erik doesn't want to inquire further into Charles' 'job', if anything, it could be a good opportunity to have Charles learn a little bit of independence from him. However, right now, there was one pressing matter he cannot let slide for another second longer.   
  
"Maus... Umm..”  
  
Erik crouched down beside Charles, who still had his legs wobbling about in the air.  
  
“You... do know I'm not a girl don't you?"  
  
Charles immediately stopped trying to pull his remaining sock on, and crawled into Erik's lap with one bare foot. The child reached up and stroked gently down Erik's freshly shaven cheek.  
  
"*Pffft* Of course you're not a girl."  
  
Erik doesn't even get the chance to panic over explaining to a four year old boy about the mechanics of reproduction when Charles lit up and explained.  
  
"You're a lady! You're my lady! !"  
  
"Ugghh.. No, that's no-"  
  
"And you've got babies! So you need lotsa rest and bacon! And and bread too!”  
  
Charles tugged at Erik's sweat pants and tried to lead him back to bed. Erik royally regretted ever agreeing to go to Hawaii and thus indulging in Charles' misconception of marriages and pregnancies, that day after the boy's proposal. He'd been sorely out-voted and out-puppy eyed, having nearly shat himself at the sight of Azazel's pleading, glistening eyes all aflutter. Erik finally agreed on the little Hawaiian holiday on the condition that the red skinned mutant never ever use puppy eyes on him again.   
Ever since their so called Honeymoon, where Charles kept drizzling honey on Erik's well toned stomach, making sure the honey was drizzled in a circular moon shape when the piece of paper with the moon drawn on top had flown away into the sea, Charles had declared the trip a success and Erik was having their babies. Unfortunately for Erik, Charles knew that babies were not carried in some cloth by a lanky bird. He knew babies will grow in Erik's belly and eventually they'd need to visit the hospital so that Erik can scream and say unspeakable words until the baby comes out of his belly.  
  
After asking Erik with his fluttering lashes to help him attach the mini clip on fire engine red bow-tie, Charles had finally finished dressing, and ran to the other side of the bed to grab something he had placed under the bed without Erik noticing.   
  
"You can't go to work without some breakfast first though."  
  
At the mention of food, the boy's head popped up into view with wide gleaming eyes, and a hungry smile nearly dripping with drool.  
  
“Yeah!”  
  
Charles scrambled from 'his side' of the bed, clutching tightly in one tiny hand an umbrella taller than himself and in the other hand an empty brief case. He lugged and dragged both items across the floor enthusiastically, both being too big for him to lift off the ground without putting it over his head. Erik followed a small distance behind the child, staying well away from the dangerous swaying path of the umbrella, since his heels are still bruised from Charles attempt at sweeping him off his feet.  
  
Everyone else was already at the breakfast table when Erik got there with his feet still intact. Charles dropped the things in his hands and rushed to Erik's usual seat to pull it out for him with gleeful joy. It was both a heart warming and hilarious sight to have this tiny boy wrestling at a wooden seat more than twice his size, then patting off the imaginary flint on the seating so that Erik may rest his buttocks better. Once the man was seated Charles ran and took his place at the head of the large table.  
  
“Eat up! I gots work today, so everyone needs to be good and quiet, so Erik can rest.”  
  
Charles sat on his child seat enhanced chair, courtesy of Hank's redesign so that the boy could actually see what was on the table without standing on the chair, and waved his hands animatedly while talking to the table like they were all his children.   
  
“Are you sick, Erik?”  
  
Before Erik could give an answer to Scott, Charles beat him to it.  
  
“No silly! Erik's got babies, and he needs more rest after his bacon.”  
  
“...babies?”  
  
Alex asked just to make sure he hadn't misheard. Charles nods proudly back at him, preening.  
  
“Riiight... babies. Yes, of course. Sure, we'll be quiet, and let him have all the bacon he needs.”  
  
By the end of his sentence, almost everyone had given Erik their share of breakfast bacon, and Alex was not the only one with sprained stomach muscles from withholding laughter. Even Emma had to cover her mouth. Erik proceeds to dig furiously into his pile of heart attack on a platter, and across from him, Charles was wolfing down his scrambled eggs and toast with equal force. In no time at all, the toddler's plate was cleaning even of crumbs, and he was sliding off his seat, skipping towards his briefcase.  
  
“All done! I'mma off to work! I'll be home with more bacon and bread tonight!”  
  
“Maus! You haven't had your milk yet.”  
  
Charles huffs out a sigh and drags his weight towards Erik, almost as if he had a tail between his legs. Charles still preferred apple juice to most other drinks and he really doesn't seem to like plain milk much. Nonetheless, he make himself comfortable on his most prized cushion that is Erik's lap, and allowed the man to help him hold up his cup of warmed milk. It took the boy longer to finish his milk than have his actual breakfast, but that was probably because Charles wanted to savor his moment on his cushion just a tad longer. He reluctantly slides off Erik's lap only to put his ear right up against the man's stomach.  
  
“Erik! Erik! ! Our babies! Is moving! !”  
  
Erik tried to maintain an exasperated look down on top of Charles' mop of chocolate brown waves, but the pure exuberance that was coming off Charles, now huddled even more closely to his digesting and rumbling belly, only led him to smile fondly and ruffle at Charles' hair. Erik gives in, and indulges.   
  
“Is that so? How many mini maus do you think there are?”  
  
“Twins! ! A boy and a girl!”  
  
The man chuckles then straightens Charles' little bow-tie.  
  
“Alright, Mr. Xavier, you don't want to be late for work to do?”  
  
Charles pulls Erik down for a smooch on the lips before making a round of the table to give everyone else a peck on the cheek, he bumbles out towards the study with briefcase and umbrella in tow. Only ten seconds later, his head pops back into view, with an arched brow and reprimanding look.  
  
“Hank! Time for work!”  
  
Said man had a forkful of eggs an inch away from his wide open and awaiting mouth. His bright yellow eyes put further emphasize on the deer caught in headlights look.  
  
“Oh? Oh. Right. Okay. Yes, work. I'll be right with you.”  
  
And so it was, Charles 'work' became Hank's lab partner on Mondays, Emma's teacher's assistant on Tuesdays, Angel's and Raven's errand helper on the days they went out and Logan's training assistant, whereby the boy growled endlessly at Scott, while putting on his most manly stance with arms crossed and sucking on a celery stick because he wasn't allowed near Logan's smelly treats.  
  
Erik had to admit his days felt more empty with Charles' constant presence, but he took it as a chance to catch up on progress with matter at Hellfire and further mutant recruitment, while also helping with any on-going construction.  
  
~  
  
The metal manipulator had spent his Charles-less days mostly underground in the bunker on Cerebro and plans for other extensions, so it was not an understatement to say he was surprised if not a bit taken aback at the sight of a stranger making googly eyes at an equally googly-eyed and blushing Charles in his arms. Not that he felt jealous or anything. Of course not. The man was clearly no competition. Not his sunny blonde hair, cut and parted just the right side of camp. Nor his broad shoulders backed up with impressive muscles that even a blind person can tell hides underneath that uniform. And certainly not his perfectly formed ass that even Logan was nodding about. No, Erik was beyond all that. He was substance over form, and no one who looked like that could not be a total asshole.   
  
“Erik! Steve's gonna be staying over Christmas! !”  
  
The man, _Steve_ , turned around with a bright smile and promptly put a hand forward in greeting.  
  
“Steve Rogers. Pleasure to meet you at last, Erik.”  
  
 _Steve Rogers_? Where had he heard this name before?   
  
Well, whoever ever this _Steve Rogers_ was, Erik was immeasurably uncomfortable with just how comfortable Charles was in the man's preposterously well proportioned arms. Not that he was jealous, of course not, he just didn't want Charles to form an attachment to someone who will be leaving after a few days. Once Erik kicks him out.  
  
“So _Steve_ , what do you do?”  
  
Erik completely ignores everyone else's weird looks, even his own brain scolding him for sounding exactly like an over protective father interrogating a boyfriend, and glares at Rogers with his arms crossed tightly, and a foot tapping impatiently.   
  
“Well, I'd like to say I'm still enlisted, but I think it's more like freelance.”  
  
The man's overly vague answer only adds to Erik's agitation, and his left eye starts twitching.  
  
“Right, and your business here?”  
  
“I was hoping to have Charles clear me for full employment. I guess they still think I'm a bit unstable, having been frozen in ice for so long... But I guess I came at a bad time? Don't worry, Dr. McCoy's already got me up to date.”  
  
Sean then cut into their awkward conversation with question after question about the man's travels and adventures. Erik slumps onto the couch, focusing entirely on not pouting when Ccharles don't not want to leap into his lap. Not soon later, Rogers discovers Charles asleep and drooling onto his shoulder, since is it the boy's usual nap time. _  
  
_“Oh, don't worry, I'll take him. It's not hassle at all, I know the way.”  
  
Rogers easily and thoughtlessly brushes off Erik's attempt at getting Charles back, and carefully takes the slumbering boy out of the room. Erik counts to ten before grabbing Sean by his collar and demanding to know the necessary details.  
  
“Who the hell is he? How does he know Charles?” _And where he sleeps_.  
  
“Steve!? He's like a superhero! I don't know how they know each other, they just do. He visited once awhile back for telepathic therapy, and Charles had nothing but great things to say about- Whoa, wait. You're jealous!”  
  
Sean laughed so hard he had tears forming at the edges of his eyes.   
  
“Oh I gotta tell-”  
  
“Don't you dare Cassidy. I just don't trust the guy. No one can be that perfect and nice.”  
  
He practically snarled out that last word, as if the word itself was a disease.   
  
“Yeah yeah. Look, I'm sure your husband will remain faithful to you. Besides, jealously isn't a good look on you.”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
~   
  
The coming days, Erik saw less and less of Charles, and whenever he did, Rogers would always be with the boy too. Charles had even stopped sleeping in Erik's room. And no, Erik was still not jealous. No, his lack of sleep and even deeper scowl, which is sure to add a few lines on his forehead, was due to his mistrust of the man who still could not figure a mutant or not, nor friend or foe. It had nothing to do with jealously or hurt.  
  
It was two days before Christmas, and Charles could no longer wait. As soon as everyone settled into their seats, Charles ran around with a sack of small gifts which were obviously wrapped by the boy himself, and a signed card attached onto each.  
  
.  
..  
...  
  
 _Earlier in the day_...  
  
“.. A.. N.. G.. E.. L... Love, Charl-”  
  
Hank has not seen this level of concentration in Charles since he was told he could only pick one flavor of cookies to eat some weeks ago. Charles holds a thick red crayon in his right hand, still somewhat awkwardly, and writes hard onto a card. His tongue sticks out when he is not verbally spelling out the letters he writes. The toddler's self designated work station in the laboratory was currently a colorful mess of shiny seasonal wrapping paper and even shinier ribbon foil. Next to the spattering of wrapping paper was a box with chocolate covered almonds scattered from the opening, which Hank guessed Charles must have begged for during his last trip for groceries.   
  
Charles takes one piece of the dark glistening confectionery and places it at one corner of a square sheet of wrapping, rolls it like a cigar containing the chocolate, then folds both sides so that it is fully enclosed, and finally pre-cut piece of sticky tape is used to hold the wrapping in place. Charles looks triumphantly at his work, while popping two pieces of chocolate into his gleeful mouth, and begins the next card.  
  
“To... A.. Z.. Z.. Z.. Z..A-”  
  
One by one names are written, chocolates are wrapped and more chocolates were devoured, until Charles' legs swing in excitement at the final name.  
  
“To... E.. R.. I.. C... Lots of love from..”  
  
Charles took extra time with Erik's card, adding little hearts all over the card. The rhythm of his swinging legs faltered when Charles reached over to the box of chocolates and felt nothing. He picked up the box and shook it upside down just to make sure, and his large eyes went ever wider while his mouth opened to take a long deep dramatic gasp. The box fell out Charles' hands and made a loud empty slap on the ground.  
  
…  
..  
.  
  
“And this one's for you Steve. Merry Christmas!”  
  
“Thank you so much, Charles! Merry Christmas to you too.”  
  
Rogers, the, way too perfect to not be evil, asshole, knelt down from his chair and gave Charles a tight warm hug, which the child happily returned. Charles then seemed really reluctant to turn around to face the final person yet to receive a gift from the child. His little hands fiddled nervously at the rather empty ruck sack, and one of his feet draw little squeaky circles on the polished hard wood floor.  
  
“I'm so-sorry Erik, I-I ran out of them... s-so...”  
  
“Hey... it's alright, maus. I don't need a gift to have a Merry Christm-”  
  
Charles is crying into Erik's woolen sweater before the man finishes his sentence.  
  
“I'm sorry... I c-couldn't stop eatin' them!”  
  
“Shhh... don't cry maus, I'll I wish for Christmas is for you to be safe and happy.”   
  
Steve clears his throat in an attempt to get Charles attention.  
  
 _And for Rogers to leave as soon as possible_. But Erik settles for glaring at the man with a frosty smile even Emma would be proud of.  
  
“Charles, are you forgetting something?”  
  
“Oh yeah! Hold on, Erik!”  
  
Charles jumped off Erik's lap and dashed away with excitement. An excitement Rogers was also reflecting. Erik decides that is proof there is something definitely wrong with the man.  
  
“Steve helped me all week, and I been staying up late for it too...”  
  
Erik was rendered speechless. His hands ghosted over a hand knit, in some places crookedly knit, maroon scarf the exact same maroon as his cape.  
  
“I...Thank you, this has to be the best Christmas present I've ever received. Thank you maus, Merry Christmas.”  
  
He picks Charles up and gives the child a truly heartfelt embrace, too embarrassed and ashamed to look Rogers in the eye.  
  
“Merry Christmas Erik... love you.”  
  
Charles clung onto Erik, and whispers shyly that final part into his neck. Erik couldn't help but strengthen his possessive arms around the boy, and breathe a long loud sigh of relief. Relief for the return of his Charles.  
  
He also could not help being a little freaked out over just how perfect and nice this Steve Rogers was.  
  
~x~


	14. Christmas Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in a day? Must be a Xmas miracle! Well, here be the small festively-themed snapshot I promised. Seasons greetings to everyone! Play hard and play safe ya'll! !

**Snapshot: The Boy and Santa (or Rudolph)**

 

Charles aged just under three  
  
~x~  
  
“Erie Erie Erieerieerieerierieririr! !”  
  
Charles came tumbling into the study where Erik was taking a much deserved coffee break by the leather couch after a long day of reading files and formulating strategies. What was unusual today was the fact that Jean had came running in after Charles, green eyes aglow with giddiness and eagerness. She too climbed onto Erik's other free lap.   
  
“Erie! Peez I wanna cookies and moofins and candy and chocolate and and always apples juice and and I a good boy, so can I has blankie never smell bad like the flowers again and-”  
  
At the same time, Jean was talking into his other ear.  
  
“...I'd really like to see snow, and I wish for everyone to have a nice warm Christmas with lots of food and.... if it's not too much to ask, I'd really like to go on a date, alone, with someone who shall remain nameless-”  
  
“Jean mean's Sott!”  
  
After they'd both finished sounding off what seemed like their Christmas wish list, they both stared wide eyed in awe at him, as if he was some higher being, and Erik can't figure out why they'd be suddenly rambling on about it to him.  
  
“Charles! We have to go make cookies and pour milk for Erik! Christmas eve is tonight! !”  
  
“Oh yeah! Erie you look skinny compare to all the pictures of you in the cards! Is because all good boys and girls wants to feed you cookies and milk too? But but our cookies and milk is bestest! Can come visit us first? ?”  
  
“Ughhh... okay...?”  
  
The man felt that was the safest answer given this situation he still could not get his head around. Jean grabs Charles' hand and leads them towards the kitchen, calling out for Sean or Janos to ask if they had ingredients for cookies.  
  
“I'm really sorry... I think I gave them the idea that you're Santa Claus...”  
  
Ororo poked her head into view, and she looked all abashed.   
  
“What? How in the world-”  
  
“Well, I was reading them a story, and Charles kinda sorta concluded that you're Santa because you also have a hidden red suit you only wear for special occasions... and I kind of didn't tell him he was way off base... then Jean got all dewy eyes because she's never celebrated Christmas before...”  
  
Of course Erik can't get himself mad or even slightly annoyed at Ororo, or the two other children.  
  
“I mean, you're obviously Rudolph...”  
  
Erik's espresso cup makes an unflattering clatter onto its saucer.   
  
“I-I mean, those antlers on you're helmet, and how you can maneuver metal... you know, like a sled, across the sky... I connected the dots...”  
  
Ororo can't hold her innocent face any longer and breaks into laughter.   
  


“I really am sorry. I didn't think Jean and Charles would take it so seriously. Merry Christmas though! !”   
  
Ororo ran up to Erik and gave him a quick peck on the cheeks and walked out of the study.  
  
“...I'm Jewish by the way.”  
  
Erik says to the now empty room. He rolled his eyes and cursed at himself for being weak and always spoiling the kids.  
  
“Ro, hold up!”  
  
The silver haired teen stopped and turned with a quirked questioning brow.  
  
“Since you started this, you're going to have to make it a white Christmas for them... I'll handle the rest. You can thank me later.”  
  
Ororo gave him a beautiful smile before turning around and walking off again, this time with a small skip in her step.  
  
“I rather thing you should be thanking me.”  
  
~x~  
  
“-and Erie came floatin' by the window, and Udolph was on his head flying with Erie! And Erie waved and the window opened iself! !”  
  
Bit of Christmas Pudding inspired muffin crumbles were flying out of Charles' overfilled mouth as the hyperactive child busily stuffed himself with more treats while giving everyone a second by second recap of the events of the night before.   
  
In the morning the household woke up to a white and tranquil landscape, and Erik had to give Ororo a proper pat on the back, as she'd managed to get cover hectares of land with at least six inches of snow in mere hours. Jean woke everyone up with her mental squealing, though in her excitement, she'd probably not known she's used her powers.   
  
' _It's snowing! ! Oh gosh! It's beautiful! !_ '  
  
Jean and Charles had run outside to play, only to be zapped back in by Azazel, to put on more layers onto their pajamas. Everyone else eventually joined them outside too, where a snowball fight ensured, and mutant powers were cunningly used. When Sean blasted a huge wave of snow only to be stopped by Janos' whirlwinds, Angel called it even, and they decided it was a good time for brunch.   
  
Erik managed to rope all the adults into staying up late and prepare all the food Charles and Jean had asked for, which was now being devoured in front of the opulent fireplace.   
  
“Wait, if Erik's Santa, doesn't need to be visiting other children too?”  
  
Scott was obviously teasing, but Charles immediately froze in horror at the thought of sharing Erik with others. His little mouth, still more than half full with sweet morsels stayed in s large open 'O' while he slowly looked up into Erik's eyes.   
  
“Don't worry, maus. I'm done for the year.”  
  
Both Charles and Jean become all sparkly-eyed and ful of awe when they exclaimed at the same time.   
  
“Wow~”  
  



	15. Snapshot Interlude: The Boy and the Pinwheel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh My God You Guise!!! I don't know where to begin to apologize for the un-forewarned halt in broadcasting! Long story short: work was killing me right up until my 2-week vacation, which was amazing save for the fact I lost my phone, which had data (read photos and ficcing) that had not been backed up...fast-forward to me angsting over lost data and other pathetic first world problems, on top of working biting my boobies again...hence we arrived at my current state of slight writer's blocked and the slight falling out of fandom. I was hoping to get out of my blocked funk and update with an actual chapter... but that ain't in the stars just yet... So!! I'm going to try to return to a weekly/bi-weekly update but for now just with snapshot interludes until I have the time and heart to update properly. PLEASE DO FORGIVE ME!! Also, thank you so so so much for those who have commented /added to favs&alerts/and kudoed, I shall be catching up on replying to those I can asap!!

Charles aged just shy of three

~x~

"No Aley-kiss! ! Is the other leg!"

Charles had been making it a personal mission to pronounce words more clearly and thoroughly, although no one had the heart to tell him he was still a little off sometimes, since everyone was too busy swooning over just how adorable Charles is when he tries so hard at correcting himself and if necessary, others (most often waving a finger at Logan and tsking, "Is Char-less, not Cha-kools!"). 

Sitting atop the leather couch, the toddler lifted one leg up as if to demonstrate which leg he wished Alex to move, oblivious to the fact is was the wrong leg. An hour ago, Charles had dragged Alex and Erik into the library, much to the surprise and repulsion of both men, as Alex still barely tolerated Erik's existence, let alone his return to the mansion, and Erik barely gave a shit about the blonde's feelings at the best of times.

With a loud frustrated huff, Charles jumps off the couch and drags with him a large, old book that he's been coveting since Valentines Day, stomping over towards Alex, whose limbs are currently entangled with Erik's, on the toddler's puppy eyed orders. 

"Like this! Over here more.."

Charles shifted Alex's leg so that it bent and wrapped around Erik's waist underneath. The boy was too caught up in his maneuvering of muscly limbs to notice the utter uncomfortableness and mortification on the men's faces. 

"There! Is't working? Feel better now?" 

Erik, having survived more of Charles' random and bizarre antics and learned sometime ago that the best answer was always an enthusiastic nodding and smiling. Besides, the man was completely defenseless against the toddler's tilted head and curious bright eyes. The same could not be said of the blonde man, who was fully working those thigh muscles so that his ass remains a few inches away from Erik's crotch. Moreover, Alex was more used to dealing with his borther's antics, and had not picked up on the subtle ways of avoiding some of Charles' playtime whims. 

"Ch-Charles are you *huh* trying to play that new twister *huh* game you saw on TV? Cause I-I really don't think this is how you pla-"

Before Alex could finish, Charles muffles his mouth with a hand and speaks in his most soothing voice.

“Shhhhh... Feel the better... Feel it make you like Erie-ka more and more... Feel it now?”

Alex releases a low groaning sound behind Charles' cupped hand that obviously meant no. With a scowl, Charles looks back at his book, flips a few pages until his eyes light up again to indicate a great big ping of his mental light bulb.

“Here, Erie-ka... Put your feet... here!”

"Whoa whoa! Whao! Whao. WHAO."

Charles tilts his little round head in question at Alex, almost looking at the man as if he's lost his mind, rather than the other way round.

"Whao. No. Keep the magnet toes away from my nipples."

At that Erik gasps in a nauseated breath, looses his balance, causing them both to land on the ground with a loud thud.

"…maus, what is this game?”

“Is not a game! Raven use this picture book with A-za-zo and she said it made them feel really really good and made them like each other more...”

Two sets of increasingly bulging eyes are matched with two gaping wide mouths.

“...and I wanna Aley-kiss to like you more and you to like Aley-kiss more.”

Both at once, the two men balked and scrambled to flap the other's limbs away.

"Oh... I'm gonna be sick.."

Alex shakes himself and grumbles while Erik silently broods at the book Charles has grasped in his hands while dusting off imaginary Alex cooties. 

"This... Maus, this book is for... Uhh.."

Erik was completely at a loss for words. He didn't want teach Charles sexual bigotry by explaining that it was for only a male-female couple.

"...for people who love-"

"I love you! And Aley-kiss and-"

"Nonono... It's a different kind of love... Like the kind between Raven and Azazel-"

"Or Jean's love for Scott!"

Alex eagerly piped in, and for the first time since Cuba, the two men looked at each other with mutual brotherly respect, though Alex had to ruin the moment by coming up with the perfect explanation.

"You love Erik right, Charles?"

"Yeah! !"

"And Erik loves you?"

Wide shining, imploring blue eyes looked up and Erik quickly nodded in agreement.

"But if-" Alex's face starts to recoil in disgust again, "Erik and I were to love each other the same-”

Alex didn't need to go on further before Charles pushes them further apart, splays himself between the men and possessively shields Erik with his small, still-podgy body.

A smile crawls from Alex's lips, and Erik feels his gut twist, as that smile isn't one of only fondness.

"So you understand, Charles? This book is for couples like you and Erik."

Erik's left eye twitches erratically as well as the scattered paper clips on the desk, signifying that Alex should make a quick exit right now. He doesn't miss the toddler excitedly flipping through the book of Kamasutra and showing Erik an ultra complex and highly 'loving' position, judging by Erik's contorted features. 

“Let's do this one! ! !”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, I wrote this with Twister and yoga positions in mind, but after doing a tiny bit of kamasutra research (with much brow rising, cuz dayum~ some of those positions look like they might cause serious bodily harm,) I'm picking "The Pinwheel" as the position Charles was using. Google it, and I'll let u decide who's on 'top' ;)


	16. Snapshot Interlude: The Boy Playing Cupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belated Valentines update... orz   
> Slightly unsatisfied with this one, as this is a rewrite from shoddy memory (it was part of all the chunk of writing I'd lost).  
> Thank you so much for those who are still sticking by this, and of course any new readers here! I'm determined to not let you down and I'll get back on track with the main plots asap!

**Charles aged just under three (Carries on from the Christmas Interlude, The Boy and Santa (or Rudolph)**  
  
~x~  
  
Never in her life would Jean have thought she'd regret wishing to go on a date with Scott. Well, more like she regretted not specifying in minute detail how alone they should be on said date, and how a certain blue eyed toddler should be locked up, preferably rope tied to a certain shark-toothed, metal helmet loving man, in a room made out of plastic. Jean was certain that if she had asked the Santa-Erik in those very words, she would not be sitting alone with Scott in the mansion's dining room, all romantically decorated with candles and roses, being served a ten course dinner by their 'waitress' Charles, who currently smiled his brightest smile while not so subtly trying to steal some corn kernels off of Scott's plate. Her heart melts more than a little when Scott laughs and offers Charles a spoonful of his corn, which Charles took as an invitation to squeeze himself beside Scott and have the teen hand feed his favorite vegetable. Jean hurriedly buries the jealous thought that it should be her squeezed together with Scott in that chair, and being hand fed.  
  
And the day had started off with so much promise...  
  
~x~  
  
“But why do I have to go to the shops too? “   
  
It wasn't often Scott whined or complained about a task he was given, especially if it came from Erik. Normally, the only person he talked back to, other than Alex, was Logan, and that's really in retaliation for all the grueling workouts the teen has suffered under his obviously amused supervision. Talking back to Alex was a little brother's prerogative, so Scott wasn't going to pass on any of that.   
  
“Because Angel, Emma and Jean could use a hand. And because it's your turn.”  
  
“But we just bought a month's worth of food a few days ago! They're just out for girl stuff-”  
  
“And they could use some back up.”  
  
“Back up? You mean like bodyguard? Or bag carrier?”  
  
“Think of it as field experience.”  
  
“Did Logan put you up- No, it's Alex isn't it? He's still pissed I walked in on-”  
  
“Stop! I... don't even want to know. No, this? This is me asking you to look after our own.”  
  
Erik did an internal dance of whoop when I saw Scott's brows tighten into a determined line of protectiveness. Tomorrow, he'll probably need to have someone teach the teen not to be so quick to trust and believe, but for now, he needs Scott and Jean out of the mansion.  
  
Because tonight, they were going to make a little girl's wish come true, and bag her a Valentine.   
  
~  
  
“And and what I gotta be?”  
  
In all the excitement for what they had in store for Jean and Scott, everyone kind of forgotten about Charles, and of course nobody noticed the giddiness building up within the boy. Angel and Emma had left with the two teens about an hour ago with orders not to return until the sun was ready to set, allowing Sean and Janos to begin their magic in the kitchen. Raven made it her mission to turn the dining room into the most romantic space on Earth, while Alex ran around the mansion trying to find every roll of unused 35mm film for Charles' top of the range Canon SLR camera, and any spare camera to boot. Alex was leaving no second of tonight's 'date' undocumented for future reminiscing (read: blackmailing) purposes. Hank went to help Ororo with coming up with the perfect bouquet of flowers, and Azazel was zapping about everywhere for everyone. Meanwhile Erik looked for assortment of metal cutlery, so that the meal could be served via his powers, and the teens could be left completely alone to enjoy their meal undisturbed.   
  
Only... that left no place for one beaming toddler currently rolling back and forth on his feet and tugging at Erik's trousers.   
  
Azazel immediately disappears in a poof of black smoke, and in his peripheral vision, Erik can see the others backing away in a desperate bid to escape. He sighs deeply and props the boy onto his hipbone.  
  
“We're going to make tonight extra special for Jean, you want to help me clean some plates?”  
  
“Kay!”  
  
~  
  
“Oh Charles~~~! Guess what Azza found for you~”  
  
Erik was this close to running over to Raven and sobbing into her bountiful cleavage for the sudden distraction she is now.  
  
In order for Erik to finish polishing a stack of silverware in time, he'd given Charles one thoroughly rusty cup to polish. But after mere ten minutes, the boy had had enough, who then proceeded to attempt to crawl all over Erik as if he's the world's most challenging jungle gym. After about an hour of little fingers and toes digging into his ears and nostrils, Raven barged into the room, hands hidden behind her back, and a cooing smile across her face.  
  
“What? What? ?”  
  
Using Erik's long legs as a slide, Charles zipped down to the ground smoothly and ran towards Raven with gusto, trying to gain a peek behind his sister's back.   
  
“Tada! !”  
  
Charles' head tilted 45 degrees in question, and Erik nearly drives the spoons into the table.  
  
“I don't think that's a good idea, Raven.”  
  
“What's it? ?”  
  
The boy made grabby hands, and started inspecting the cloth in Raven's hands.  
  
“It's a costume. How would you like to help Erik serve dinner tonight?”  
  
“Yes please! !” “I really don-”  
  
The answers came simultaneously, but Charles excited shrill was loud enough to drown out Erik's, and the matter was settled.  
  
~  
  
“Eyes closed... Scott, I know you're peeking, shut them.”  
  
Angel and Emma spent their time out in the shops well, and managed to bring Jean and Scott back dressed up all fancy. Jean was dressed in a pastel green dress with an emerald green cardigan that brought out the girl's eyes, and Scott in a dapper deep navy blue suit, that clung well to his growing body, much to the teen's embarrassment, if his constant shifting is to speak for anything. It also looked like they all, including Scott, went to a salon and a manicurist. Alex made a mental note to check and document whether his brother was also pressured into a pedicure.   
  
The older Summers' led the oblivious couple into the dining room, and he himself had to pause to gasp in awe. The room had been completely transformed by Raven into a cozy, candle-lit dining table set for two, surrounded by intricately arranged roses of varying varieties by Ororo and Hank and more candles of all shapes and sizes.  
  
“Alex, what's going on? Why is it so warm all of a sudden?”  
  
“Alright, alright hold your plasma beams. Open on three... THREE!”  
  
The older man lets go of Jean and Scott's hands, and slid out of the room before they could adjust their eyes to the light.  
  
“Wow...”  
  
Jean and Scott stood stunned and unable to move from their spot by the door. At the back of her mind, Jean has an inkling of what may be happening, but she doesn't dare to get her hopes up yet. Too immersed in their shock, they don't notice Charles slipping through the door behind them, and pouncing into the space between their legs, pulling at each of their hands gleefully.   
  
“Hi Jean and Scotty! I'mma be the wait-tits tonight!”  
  
Charles is wearing a little black dress, with frills and lace at the hems, so short a few inches of his nappy is visible. On top of the dress is a white, equally lacy and frilly apron, and to top it all off, a white lace headpiece was tied onto his head, falling a bit crooked as the boy jumps about. The toddler suddenly seemed to remember something and stills, then does a half bow half curtsey motion.  
  
“Come sit down! Dinner's ready!”  
  
“Ugh... where's everyone else, Charles?”  
  
Scott moves cautiously towards the table, looking around the room as if it's one huge trap Alex had set up to prank him.  
  
“Home.”  
  
“I mean... aren't they joining us for dinner?”  
  
“Nope! Is for you and Jean only tonight. And I'm gonna be the wait-tits, is that okay?”  
  
Before Scott could ask more questions, Jean cuts in to appease the toddler.  
  
“Yes, of course! Dinner for two, that sounds great!”  
  
~  
  
“Is yum, Jean!”  
  
By the time the Charles followed in with the floating plates of the third course, a selection of cold appetizers, Jean knew she had no hope of a nice romantic, _private_ meal with her crush. Charles was having too much fun stealing off of their plates as it lands into position in front of them on the table, and there was no way anyone in the world would have the heart to tell the boy off when he is beaming back at you with a face smothered in stolen food and attempting to explain what he thought about it, mostly with statements like, 'is yummier than chicken!'.   
  
Worse still, was the constant flash of the multiple cameras Alex was using from random hidden spots around the room.  
  
The girl fights back tears while she quells down all her hopes of sneaking in a pre-Valentines kiss tonight, and excuses herself to wash off the pesto sauce Charles accidentally rubbed onto her skirt.  
  
~  
  
“Umm... I don't know if I should give this to you... but Charles seemed to think you'd be very happy if I did...”  
  
They've just finished dessert, well, more like Charles had just finished dessert for them, and for the first time today, they had more than a minute alone together. Scott reaches into his pocket and retrieves a little red foiled ball of what seemed to be a formally heart shaped chocolate bonbon.   
  
“Sorry, it's all squished. I think Charles worked hard to save it for me to give to you, and not munch on it himself.”  
  
The teenaged boy's face reddens to rival his ruby quartz glasses as he painfully ignores the muffled shouts of his brother and Charles beyond the door to 'Kiss her! Kiss her! !'. He closes the gap between himself and Jean, brushing a flyaway lock of auburn hair away, and leans down to give the girl a peck on her rose colored cheek.  
  
“Happy Valentines Day, Jean. I-I'll get you some non-squished ones... i-if that's what you'd like, I mean.”  
  
Jean ignores the loud round of applause and whistling, wraps her slender arms around Scott, and returns with a loud, moist smooch back onto the young man's cheek. Jean felt as if she was floating on air, and she was going to have to give everyone a tight hug in thanks. More importantly, she owed so many hugs and kisses to Charles. If Erik is Santa, then Charles is Cupid, and Charles was the Best. Cupid. Ever.  
  
But that was all for later. Right now, her current thoughts were occupied with how long she could leave her Scott-kissed cheek unwashed.


	17. Snapshot Interlude: ABCs with Wolverine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is a little late, and for the shortness of it. I was hoping for an actual chapter update, but it's been a busier week than anticipated. I'm determined to further the main plot in the next post, so may take closer than 2 weeks for the next update. As always, thank you so much for reading, leaving such encouraging comments and adding me to your favs/follows/kudos.

**Charles aged two and a half**  
  
~x~  
  
“Wha'cha doing, chuck?”  
  
Logan had spent a good part of the day tormenting the Summers' brothers outside, putting them up to an exercise drill even he wouldn't attempt to complete in a day, making certain their muscles will be in pain for the rest of the week.   
  
He'd spotted Charles alone in the large library, filled to the brim with books, vinyl records, and magazines, though not the type Logan is known to pick up and read. The boy sat on the ground, atop a thick lavish rug with a number of vividly colored children's books splayed about him.   
  
“Learning the A B E F Y and Zed”   
  
Charles sang the remaining part of his reply.  
  
“The ABCs huh? Lemme have a look at your book there.”  
  
The buff man sat down on the sofa nearby, and immediately Charles happily crawled up, making himself comfortable on Logan's lap. The Alphabet book was one of those typically child friendly size and shaped books with thick cardboard pages filled with huge bright and simple words and drawings.   
  
In others words, dull and boring.   
  
Logan knew he had to step in and correct this atrocity.   
  
~x~  
  
It has become a sort of tradition in the house that they'd all gather in the main lounge after dinner and have dessert and drinks in front of the television or an open fire and let the children direct the conversation.  
  
Tonight was no different, other than the fact Charles didn't race to be first into the room, and instead entered last, pulling Logan by the finger with one small chubby hand, and holding his alphabet book in the other. The boy dragged a small foot stool in front of the television, and sat down in the way of the screen, gaining everyone's curious and amused attention.  
  
“I read a sorie? Logan taughts me ABCD today.”  
  
Charles' face flush at all the attention and encouragement, straightened himself on the stool and flipped open the book, so that the contents faced his audience.  
  
~x~  
  
“A... is for Ass-Ho!”  
  
“B... is for Boobies!”  
  
“C... is for Comdoms!”  
  
“D... is for Dee-Kiss!”  
  
“E... is for Erie-Cushion!” Charles pointedly looks at Erik in adoration, while the man's jaw hits the carpeted floor, not to mention every male in the room will no doubt have some degree of erectile dysfunction for a few days.  
  
“F... is for Fakkas!”  
  
“G... is for Ga-Dam!”  
  
“H... is for Haa-Don!”  
  
“I... is for Im-Poo!  
  
“J... is for Jiss!  
  
“K... is for King-Key!”  
  
“L... is for Lim-Poo!  
  
“M... is for More-On!  
  
“N... is for Nipples!

  
“O... is for Or-Gazzam!  
  
“P... is for Pussy Cat!” Logan takes out the cigar from his mouth to say, “No no, just pussy,” “Kay, just pussy.”  
  
“Q... is for Quee-fu!”  
  
“R... is for Rimming!”  
  
“S... is for Shhh-It!   
  
“T... is for Tits!”  
  
“U... is for Undies!”  
  
“V... is for Vi-Bay-Ta!”   
  
“W... is for Willy!”  
  
“X... is for Xavier, is me!”  
  
“Y... is for Yeesh!”   
  
“Z... is for Zits!”  
  
~x~  
  
Charles shuts the book and puffs up his little chest in utter pride, legs swinging about in exhilaration, completely oblivious to the shock of the others in the room.  
  
Sean has an arm around Jean and Ororo, trying desperately but failing to cover their ears. Alex has his hands covering his brother's ears, much to Scott's annoyance and embarrassment. Hank has his head tilted and Janos looks equally confused, both still figuring out what half the words meant. Angel has spilled her drink out of her nostrils, and is doubled over in laughter, while Emma's hair has turned into their diamond from, because she's so busy trying to contain her laughter, she doesn't have a check on her secondary mutation. Azazel is too busy holding back Raven, who wants to rip Logan's guts out through his throat.   
  
“Logan says they big people words! I'm a big boy now!”  
  
And Erik is still frozen in place with jaw dropped, and couple of veins on his temples threatening to burst. The metal in the room hum and vibrate (a word some of them will not want to hear or use for some time) like a growing migraine. Logan starts squirming in his seat as the Adamantium within him reacts too, and he blows a huge puff of cigar smoke Erik's way.  
  
“Stop that, you're making me ticklish.”  
  



	18. Fourteen and Memories are Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry for the lateness, had been out of service for close to two weeks due to the flu, then catching up on work. Thank you so much for the wonderfully kind reviews/fav/follow/kudos! They never fail to brighten my day :)
> 
> So I realized I made a sort of big booboo with the children's ages. Back in ch.5 I had set Scott as 13, Ororo as 11 and Jean as 9, and I've kinda been writing them thinking I had set them a bit older, esp Scott and Ororo. So from now I'm just going to say Scott is 15 going on 16, Ororo recently turned 14, Jean is still 9, and Warren is 15 (Though in a confusing turn of events, I imaging them closer to those ages originally stated... yeah... hit me with them rotten eggs!) 
> 
> I had planned for a much longer chapter, but that would have needed quite a bit more time, and I think it was a good place to end, so please forgive more the shorter update!

\-- _they are unnatural! The work of the devil! They are as filthy, if not more so than those ungodly, disease spreading homosex_ \--  
  
Charles sat staring at the television wondering how the day could get any worse. First it was his monumentally inappropriate wet dream of the man who slept across the hall from him. He had spent that first hour since waking up, stalking around his room, pulling at his hair and staring accusingly at his dirtied dark gray cotton briefs, with the crotch area now dried into a light gray color, and to his utter dismay, hardened into a crisp. He mouthed curses at all the useless books he'd been reading at school, none of which had prepared him for this mortification. Of course he knew there would be no book on 'how to manage wet dreams when you are a growing telepath', but he'd had thought at least there would be pointers on 'how to eviscerate evidence of inappropriate dreaming, right from the safety and comfort of your locked room'. Charles decided his only option was to stay in his room. Forever. And ever. And forever more. Even better if one of those black holes Hank was lecturing them about last week would miraculously open up right here and suck him away to a deep black void of oblivion.  
  
The young man had to abort his plans to become a hermit when Ororo knocked on the door to call him for breakfast, and thus alerting him of his grumbling stomach. He had managed to avoid eye contact with anyone, so he had yet figured out whether he had inadvertently broadcast his steam-filled dream, but knowing his recent luck, the whole zip-code had been forced awake by images of a well toned, glistening wet and very much naked piece of physical perfection. That thought alone, of somebody else seeing Erik nude, made Charles' nerves burn. Because of course he'd be a childish, possessive crybaby with feelings that should not exist and will probably never be returned. And this brings Charles' thoughts back to the broadcast flashing from the television, which at the same time highlights just how selfish he is, worrying about his own so called deviant desires when a real and current threat to mutant kind is declaring war.  
  
The large living room had been engulfed in a heavy silence and the air was suffocatingly thick with tension. This was the first ever televised national broadcast concerning 'the mutant threat'. An issue most of humanity thought simply to be made-up and exaggerated metaphors to sell papers and airtime. It was also the first outright blaring declaration against them from a human. And even though most news outlets have been 'told' to bury any reports too close to the truth for the government's liking, they could not hold down the pure charisma and massive following of William Stryker, a former colonel of the U.S. Army, though Emma has ample evidence proving he is far from retired from the military.   
  
\-- _and we of the pure blood, the Purifiers, will lead humanity_ \--  
  
Cold sweat formed and meaningful glares were being directed across the room and all around Charles, but he couldn't bring himself to decipher them. Charles felt sick that his mind would not let go of his own measly matter, but the words of that middle aged man with platinum blonde hair and stern looking eyes kept replaying in his mind. _Ungodly_. _Disease_. It wasn't as if Charles was a religious man, but the ferociousness in man's tone pierced through Charles' numb subconscious, every word a poisonous arrow striking into him. According to that man, he was the worst of the worst, a freak among freaks.  
  
\-- _let this be the day humanity comes together and--_  
  
Alex finally switched the television off before he lost control and obliterated it. That throat wrenching silence remained as furious glares and worried gazes darted across the room. Charles found it increasingly hard to breathe, his mind was numb with both keeping his thoughts in and keeping an anxious Jean and an inquisitive Emma out. Before anyone broke the silence, Charles had fled the room, one had covering his mouth just in case, as his unease has worked its way to his gut, turning his insides upside down, threatening to unload his breakfast and lunch up through his esophagus.   
  
~  
  
The air outside was sharp and crisply cold, the type that cuts through the layers of warm woolen clothing and makes one's ears sting. Charles stood at the outer porch brick wall, the exact same spot where his older self entered into Erik's mind and showed him serenity. The young man was shivering and huddled tightly into himself, probably regretting not stepping out with a coat yet too stubborn to step back inside.  
  
By the sudden straightening of his back, Erik knew the exact moment Charles realized he was walking up from behind the younger man, approaching silently with a coat in one hand and a portable wooden chess set in the other. Erik placed the board in Charles' hands and draped the coat over his slender shoulders, immediately garnering the younger man to relax backwards a little into the elder's arms. _  
  
_“How about a game of chess?”  
  
During the broadcast, Erik had paid more attention to the reactions of the others watching than the actual proceedings on screen, and he didn't miss how ghostly pale Charles' skin had become, and the thin layer of sweat accumulating at his temple. Erik had initially thought it was reaction from fear, but somehow it didn't make any sense. This wasn't the first time in Charles' 'young life' he had faced a human's contempt for mutants, by all accounts he is still suffering neglect and verbal abuse from his drunken mother on a daily basis, and yet his reaction indicates Stryker's words have hit an even deeper and more personal level. Something was terribly off. Erik needed to get Charles to open up.  
  
And chess was his best chance.  
  
Erik squeezed Charles' shoulder fondly, gently maneuvering him towards the weather worn set of cast iron garden chairs and table. Charles automatically sets up the board, and as if second nature to him, he flips the board so that Erik plays black. Their game, starts off in silence, with Charles' focus completely absorbed the board, a little too deliberately Erik observes. One of the teen's foot taps restlessly at one leg of the cast iron chair, and Erik finds himself holding down a quirked brow and questioning comment. He will let Charles make the first move. After half an hour of wordless playing, and Charles' King backed into a corner, Erik's patience is rewarded.  
  
“I know what you're doing, Erik.”  
  
“And what might that be?”  
  
“You want me to tell you what's bothering me. Using chess as a diversion... I'm onto you, you know.”  
  
Erik's amused and affectionate chuckle only added to Charles' pout.   
  
“You got me, maus. And? Are you willing to open up to me?”  
  
Charles' cheeks take on a deep red as his brilliant blue eyes flicker about, only making contact with Erik's moss green eyes momentarily.  
  
“D-did I project anything this morning?”  
  
“This morning? During the broadcast?”  
  
“No... I mean, really early this morning... before breakfast.”  
  
“You had a bad dream?”  
  
The younger man sputters, and now his neck is as red as his cheeks.  
  
“*cough* No... n-not exactly a bad dream... more of a... umm... private dream. But since you have no idea I had a we- dream, I think I'll be fine.”  
  
Erik narrowed his eyes in consideration.   
  
“...did you have a dream involving sex?”  
  
Charles froze. The darker wooden pawn piece fell out of his startled hand, tumbling unevenly on the intricate design of the table top.  
  
“W-wha-what makes you think that?”  
  
“I know you've had to discover and learn about a lot of things on you're own, without a father figure you can trust and talk to... Those feeling you're experiencing, the bodily changes, it's all part of growing up. Your dreams don't mean anything bad. You don't have to face these things alone.” _Not this time round_.  
  
Erik bit down hard the insides of his cheeks to stop gagging on the memory of Shaw giving him _The Talk_ , acting as if he hadn't shot his mother in front of him, then ordered his father tortured then gutted as punishment for Erik's slow progress.   
  
“Did... you ever have such dreams?”  
  
“Of course I did. Rarely now, you grow out of them, though they may never go away completely.”  
  
“W-what if my dream involved someone I should think of as family... and not of the _female_ persuasion?”  
  
Charles kept his eyes firmly on the board, his face even more maroon. Erik's shoulders tensed just that little bit. Erik felt as if Charles was hitting one bulls-eye after another. He remembers all too clearly the last sexual dream he experienced. It occurred right after Cuba.  
  
“...there's nothing wrong with homosexuality or bisexuality or any other type there might exist.”  
  
“But that Stryker man... he said the Bible-”  
  
“Stryker also named us mutants as devils, you really want to listen to his bigotry?”   
  
“No. You're right. I'm sorry, I'm just... scared. Scared that my feelings won't be returned. I'm scared that yo- he won't ever see me in the way that I see him.”  
  
Inwardly, Erik was in complete turmoil. Charles' ill advised crush on him was something the others loved to tease him about, but as Charles grows in age, Erik has felt the younger's crush on him become an infatuation. Emma has hinted that this was an opportunity not to be missed, but he wasn't prepared to use this against Charles. He thinks he won't ever be able to cross that line. Yet, buried deep within him, together with his most coveted memories, is the realization of what he 'will come to feel' for Charles, a realization came too late, after he'd hurt Charles so grievously on that beach. Furthermore, the he most sickening to him was the fact that even after losing Charles like that, he'd had his first sexual dream in years. Of Charles submitting.  
  
Erik knew he must not encourage this, that he doesn't deserve it, but... he doesn't want to let him go.   
  
“Charles, you're still so young, and I-”  
  
“It's fine! I understand. I-I've got too much studying to do anyway... and, and I doubt mother would be very happy about him. Oh look... you've got my king utterly trapped, I surrender this round. Another?”  
  
Charles tips over the lighter brown king piece, effectively ending the game. Across the small round table, Erik wonders if the truly trapped king was Charles or himself.  
  
~x~  
  
Ororo loved this time of year. Winter was giving way to spring, and the dulled colors of the landscape once again reveals their colorful treasure to those who paused to absorbs their magnificence. The young woman would spend much of her spare time outside, prepping the soil for the coming seasonal change, adding new layers of compose, removing weeds and mushrooms, which sometimes to her delight were the edible sort. It was certainly a much needed change and breather from last week, when tensions within the household made everyone so high-strung, even Jean had unintentionally snapped at Warren.   
  
She had been tending to a patch of rose bushes, growing right beside one wall of the mansion, that were showing signs of an early blossom when she heard a high pitched, terrified shriek and loud tumble, possibly from a fallen chair. The noise came from the open windows nearby on the second floor, and judging by its location, Ororo guessed it was Angel's room.   
  
Ororo immediately flew up towards the window, eyes burning white as she readies herself for the worst. From the recent training the children had been receiving from Logan, Ororo hovered out of sight beside the window, using it's reflective properties to peek inside. She can make out Angel's reflection, sitting on the grown awkwardly, as if she had fallen, but no one else was in the room.  
  
" _Angel_!? _What's wrong_? _Are you in danger_?"  
  
The younger woman whispered loudly, still unsure whether it was safe to speak aloud properly. She could hear Angel's frightened breathing, but there didn't seem to be anyone or anything else in the room with her. Ororo allows for another moment to pass, then takes in a large breathe, shutting her eyes and prays she makes the right decision in entering the room. For the next couple of minutes, all she hears is the thunderously beating of her heart while she scours the room, going through all the precautions she's been taught.   
  
“O-over there... the d-dressing table..”  
  
Angel's usually relaxed and flexible body is stiff and ridge at the foot of the bed, her delicate see-through wings wrapped protectively around her. Ororo sees no obvious signs of injury so she gathers all her courage and walks up to check out the dressing table. There was an assortment of skincare and cosmetics on the table, and near the center was a box of makeup powder, a large amount of its contents spilled onto the dark oak surface. There was something written within the powdery mess.   
  
_I'm sorry_  
  
“I-it moved... It just moved by itself. Right in front of my eyes.”  
  
The fear in Angel's voice only added to raise goose bumps all over Ororo's skin. It didn't seem to be anything evil, and as someone who comes from a long line of those with a strong connection with the spiritual world, she would normally be able to feel any spiritual energy within a limited range, especially darker energy.   
  
A knock comes at the door, then opens to reveal a concerned Jean, whose room was quite close by. Something flickers across Angel's eyes and she jump onto her legs, grabbing onto Jean's hands.  
  
“Jean? Is this your doing? Please tell me it was you practicing your telekinesis. O-or is this some prank you guys are pulling? Please, I'm kinda freaking out here.”   
  
“What are you talking? I haven't started practicing for the day yet... Hold on. I know that mind.”  
  
Ororo looks at Jean, and both their faces light up instantly.  
  
“No name!”  
  
~  
  
“C-can I talk to him?”  
  
Alex, still on crutches per Scott's orders, looked more fragile than Ororo's ever seen him.   
  
“We've never directly communicated with No Name. Jean and I kind of just get this positive or negative feeling in our mind. The few times No Name's moved something physically, he goes quiet for awhile. We think it's because it takes too much out of him.”  
  
“...Darwin. His name- h-he liked us to call him Darwin. Cause, you can adopt to anything, right?”  
  
The elder Summers chuckles shakily, and asks the vacant space in the room. A scrunched up piece of paper flew out of the bin and hit Alex right in the forehead. A tightly wound up coil seems to loosen, and the blonde man cracks up laughing. No one comments on his red-rimmed and flooded eyes. Nor do they comment on how wrecked and guilty Angel looked.   
  
~x~  
  
“We need to tell him, if not today, then definitely tomorrow.”  
  
It was well after midnight, and all the younger residents of the mansion have gone to sleep. Raven sat at her usual spot at the dining table, swaying a mug of herbal tea. Also at the table was Erik, Hank and Sean. All with varying expressions of resolution to the inevitable.   
  
Tomorrow.   
  
Tomorrow, Charles regains his fourteen year old memories. The memories of finding a homeless and starving Raven, imposing as his mother, raiding the fridge in the middle of the night.   
  
They cannot keep Charles from the truth any longer. She just hopes that they haven't left it too late.  
  
~  
  
“Umm... Charles? Before your session today, we have something we need to talk to you about.”  
  
Hank had asked Charles to follow him to the study, where Sean, Erik and Raven already stood waiting. Sean had asked Alex to keep an eye on the other children. Just in case. In case of what, neither of them wished to guess about, but they knew they needed to take every precaution.   
  
Today could mean the end of their state of truce. And even if half the mansion's residents are not told to leave today, it was still going to be the beginning of the end.   
  
Raven had wanted to be the one to tell him the truth, but Erik stepped in, and reasoned that perhaps Hank should be the one to explain things, since he was the one who will be there for the treatment too. Sean wondered if he was over thinking things when his first thought was that this was a tactical move from Erik, perhaps giving him the chance to observe matters from the side, and step in at the most opportune moment. The red head couldn't to risk giving Erik any slight chance to manipulate Charles, so he conceded to have Hank explain, but Erik, Raven and himself will be in the room together with them.   
  
“Do you sometimes feel, you're living two separate lives?”  
  
Charles' eyes widened in bewildered acknowledgment.  
  
“You're all never here when mother, or Kurt, or Cain are here. And there's been so many times when I thought I had made you all up. Sometimes it feels like I made mother... and papa and the Markos up instead. I-is there something wrong with me? Is that why I need the treatments?”  
  
“No! There's nothing wrong with you. What you know of you're family and your schooling, are real and proper memories. They... happened to you some years ago. You're actually 32 going on 33 years old, but you've been reliving your childhood memories for the last few months.”  
  
As Hank goes on, Charles jaw drops lower and lower.   
  
“Are you saying... I've been reborn? Reincarnated?”  
  
“A little bit like that. You were hurt very badly. Paralyzed from the waist down. I built the cell regeneration chamber so we could reverse the permanent tissue damage... and it worked... just too well. You're cells reversed so much, you returned to you're two year old body and mind. I didn't want to put your life at risk and have you go through another drastic transformation, so we've been aging you incrementally by a year, every week.”  
  
The Beast tried to place a hand on the teen's shoulder, only to have the latter flinch away.   
  
“I'm so sorry, Charles! You had put your trust in me, and I failed! I failed again.”  
  
Hank's last few words are choked out, his gaze directed at Raven.   
  
“I don't blame you, Hank. I-it's just a lot to take in, I need a momen- How did I get paralyzed?”  
  
From Charles' rushed and distracted speech, the others could tell that brain was jumping from one reasoning to another. He was too deep in his thoughts to catch sight of the other's glancing over at Erik.  
  
“I did it.”  
  
Charles head snap up, his entire body jolted at Erik's steely voice.  
  
“I sent a bullet into your spine, and left you paralyzed.”  
  
No one moved or breathed for a long torturous minute. Then Charles doubled over, heaving bile all over his feet.  
  
~x~  
  
 **The Boy and the Flu  
**  
A not-so-fluffy snapshot, and definitely can be taken to be part of the main plot.  
  
This was mostly written over two weeks ago when it was an extremely dark and wet day, and I suffered the moodies, little did I know my mutation is the power of written premonition, (so from now on, my stories should just contain the following two words: McFassy threesome!! I am open to bribes ;D)  
  
~x~  
  
Charles, aged just under 4  
  
It started with Sean around a week ago. He had been out one afternoon running errands and making a quick detour for some groceries. After a hefty dinner, he had brushed off the lingering dry feeling in his throat to the extensive exercises of his powers the day before. That dryness turned into a blistering pain overnight, so excruciating it had woken the man up before sunrise.   
  
Cool water, warm water, steaming hot water laced with honey and lemon all did little to soothe the pain or that unquenchable dryness. By late afternoon, Sean's head was swimming, his body suffering from phantom aches, and shivering with sweat from both hot and cold.  
  
"Alex is going to take you to see a doctor."  
  
Hank had taken his temperature, and was relieved that Sean's fever had broken, although still a little too high for comfort.  
  
"Nah, I'll be fine, just have Alex be my servant for a few da-"  
  
Sean starts coughing uncontrollably, his face contorted in agony when each cough feels like fiery sandpaper scraping inside his throat. The door to Sean's room creaks open, and Charles pokes his head through, his blue eyes made even bluer by his tears.   
  
"Sean? I brought Blankie, Loki and Thor to make you better."  
  
Charles had gone into mother-hen overdrive when he'd been told Sean was ill. He wanted to personally make and bring Sean his food and drink, even asking Sean if he needed help with taking a bath.  
  
Sean sat up straighter to thank the boy, but his movements managed to irritate his throat, causing the bed-bound man to choke and enter into another fit of coughs. Charles had not witnessed these fits before, and he was soon crawled into Sean's space, stubbornly ignoring both Hank's and Sean's pleas for the boy to leave the room. Hank had no other choice but to take Charles into his arms and leave, which instantly turned on Charles' water works.   
  
“No! ! Sean! I wanna help Sean! ! !”  
  
“You have to *cough* leave with Hank, little man. I *cough cough* I'd feel even worse if I got you sick too.”  
  
Those words didn't placate Charles one bit, and Sean could hear Charles crying into Hank's fuzzy neck as the man walked down the hall, hopefully to find Erik and have him distract the boy.   
  
The week would get even worse as the flu pass from one to another. Erik was on strict orders to, drench himself in disinfectant, take excessive amounts of vitamins and stay well away from anyone who are or had been ill. Everyone shuddered to think what would happen to Charles if Erik got ill.   
  
And then Charles got sick.  
  
~  
  
Erik hasn't slept lying on a bed for the last two days. He'd been trying to tend to Charles' bedside, but whenever anyone neared the boy, he'd burst into tears and coughs, and hid himself under the covers. So really, Erik had mostly been brooding outside of Charles' room. He had just taken a long warm shower, and now slouched over the bed, above the covers, staring blanking up at the off white ceiling. His body felt boneless, yet his brain was painfully awake, that state where you've become so tired, your body produces excess energy out of nowhere and it all rushes to the brain. Suddenly, the door to his room flies open, and a shivering Charles comes running in.  
  
"Maus!? What are you doing out of bed? Where's Raven?"  
  
Raven had told everyone else to go to bed, and to not come out of their respective rooms until they got some proper sleep. Her mutation seemed to allow her quite a bit of immunity from the common flu, so she had been the best suited to tend to those who were ill. Not that it stopped any of the others fussing over everyone else, and especially over Charles.  
  
The boy runs past Erik into his room, but not to climb onto the bed as Erik thought, and instead looks around the room in a panic, half wheezing and rasping loudly through his mouth. As Charles looks frantically around the room, seemingly unable to find what he is looking for, his wheezing becomes worse, and his cough, painful even to Erik's ears, increase in amount.   
  
"What are you lookin-"  
  
Charles' whole body trembles in relief as he spots the item he has been looking for, and it was one item Erik would have never guessed the boy to want to see.  
  
It was his telepathy-nulling helmet, hidden within an unassuming cardboard box, placed under the bed, directly under the side Erik prefers to sleep. The only logical conclusion Erik could fathom was that Charles' powers were going haywire due to the flu, and the helmet was adding to his discomfort.  
  
"I'm so sorry, maus. I'll take that outside, far away from-"  
  
All of a sudden, Charles grabs the helmet with both hands and lifts it's hefty weight upon his little head. Charles' head disappears into the helmet, it being more than twice the size of the boy's head, and too heavy for his neck, thus Charles' hands remain holding up the metal contraption.   
  
"H-huh have to hide it."  
  
The boy's speech was shaky, throaty and mucus heavy.   
  
"Hide it? Hide what?"  
  
Erik felt a sour pain seeping from his innards, out through his pores. Charles can't be implying what he thinks, it's... inconceivable. Erik kneels right up into the sniffling child's personal space, attempting to take the helmet so that he could look into the boy's baby blues and find out this was all a big funny game Charles is playing. But, Charles' grasp only tightens, his whole body flinching together backwards, as if trying to crawl under the bed.  
  
"No! Please! Hav'ta hide it! !"  
  
"Charles... Ar-are you hiding your mind? Your telepathy?"  
  
"Don' wanna.. huh... hurt everyone."  
  
"What makes you think you're going to hurt anyone?"  
  
Erik attempts to near the gasping child again, only to literally drive the boy under the bed, leaving only one shivering woolly socked foot in sight.  
  
"Charles, please come out from under there and come sleep on the bed."  
  
"No! Go away! … please... don' wanna hurt you."  
  
It broke Erik in so many places to conclude that Charles was hiding his telepathy for fear of projecting his discomfort and headache to everyone. Perhaps it was their fault for telling him to stay out of the rooms of those who were ill and resting in bed when the boy desperately wanted to keep watch by their bedside. Of course they should have seen this coming. Charles, even at such a tender age, has a habit of putting those he cares about before him. Erik releases a pained, shaky breath.  
  
"Please come sleep on the bed, maus. Knowing you're suffering down there, breaks my heart. I'm sure it'll break everyone else's heart too."  
  
The wheezing and sniffing below the bed stops for a moment, and Erik finally breathes again when he sees two little legs wiggling backwards, bringing with them Charles from underneath the mattress.   
  
Glazed blue orbs looking up solemnly and worriedly from under the metal helmet, then without further prompting, Charles climbs onto the bed, struggling a bit because hand arms were still preoccupied with propping up the heaving metal head piece. Erik moves in, lifts the boy up with ease, encasing him snugly within his arms. Only to have the toddler burst into tears again as he wails.  
  
"Nooo *cough cough* ooo! ! Don' touch! Don' wanna! ! I don *cough* wanna hurt you! Erik, No! *cough* Don' want Erik sick! !"  
  
Charles desperately tries to escape Erik's hold, and the man quickly lifts the down-lined covers, and places the hysterical boy within the comfort and warmth of the blankets.  
  
"Sshhh... It's okay now, maus. I'm fine. I promise you I won't get sick. Just let me-"  
  
"Noooo! !"  
  
Charles is cut off when his sore throat makes him choke and gag some more, and each passing second has Erik tearing up just a little bit more. He can't leave Charles suffering like this, and he decides to have Azazel bring Emma back from assignment, so that she could provide some mental blocks. Just as he is about to leave the room, Jean enters, looking heavily fatigued.   
  
“Charles placed Raven into deep sleep. She'll be fine when she wakes up.”   
  
The girl makes her way to the bedside, and looks forlornly at the piled up blankets.  
  
“Can you lift away the helmet? I can soothe his mind.”  
  
“Are you sure? You look like you need a lot of rest. I was just about to call Emma back.”  
  
Jean looks directly into Erik's eyes, and there is such an intensity within those brilliant green eyes, Erik knew the conversation was over. The man lifts his hand to lead the helmet away from Charles, ignoring Charles' sobbing pleas.  
  
“Hey, Charlie. I'm here. Let me in and I promise you everyone will be okay.”  
  
The effect is not immediate, but Charles' sobs quieten, his breathing calms bit by bit. Jean crawls into the blankets, snuggles close to Charles, and makes sure he is tucked in properly. She looks back at Erik with a more content look on her face now, and offers a smile that look a bit tired, but still shone brighter than daylight.  
  
“You can sleep in my room tonight if you want. Charles will be fine with me.”  
  
~  
  
When Erik returns to his room early next morning after a light breakfast, he finds his bed occupied by a blissful Charles, surrounded by Jean, Ororo, Scott, Alex, Hank and Sean, all laughing and chatting away. Erik wonders if this scene of unguarded tranquility was something he would experience again in his lifetime. It was so tempting to walk in and join them.  
  
Erik feet lingers at the threshold, desperately itching to cross.


	19. Snapshot Interlude: The Wolverine and the Bigga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where to begin my apologies for the lack of updates. Life has been CRAZY, and I've only been able to write during commutes or sneaky bathroom breaks (if I'm not catching up on some Zs). I have not abandoned the story! It's just taking forever, and I promise the next update will be a proper chapter. Once again, thank you all so much for bearing with me, giving me encouragement and support via comments/kudos/favs/alerts! You guys are what's keeping this fic going!

**The Wolverine and the Bigga**  
  
 **Or**  
  
 **The Real Reason Why Wolverine Despises Cyclops**  
  
 **An add-on to the snapshot The Wolverine and the Mouse (chapter Seven and Something Looming)**  
  
~x~  
  
 **Charles aged 2 and 11 weeks**  
  
Logan Howlett has had enough of the sight of Scott Summers' not-yet-fully-developed-boy dick (or if Logan is feeling extra spiteful, it would be Scott Summers' recently-fully-developed-and-will-forever-be-pea-sized dick). Because of the aforementioned protrusion, Logan is on the verge of giving up on his self imposed mission, that or he's going to put his mutation to proper use, and get snipping, surely Jean will understand and forgive him one day, his reasons are just. However Logan was nothing but determined when his mind was set on something. And that something was to prove Charles wrong about who really was 'Bigga'.  
  
Yeah, yeah. Call him an insecure, childish asshole all you want. He doesn't give a shit, because he's got a serious Alpha complex, and he might even be a little too proud of it. In any case, Logan is certain the boy is making assumptions from obscure memory and perhaps even vision impairment, he knows how foggy it can get in those bathrooms.   
  
Thus, Logan has made it his mission to see for himself. Call it an exercise of compare and contrast. Proving or disproving a hypothesis. Whatever. Just let him see some damned cocks.   
  
But. Fuck. His. Luck.  
  
Because the only penis he's been getting the sight of was Scott freaking Summers'. And Charles'. Since the weather had felt more like the peak of summer rather than mid-spring, and the rambunctious toddler has really taken to scampering around completely nude.   
  
Seriously. It really should not be this fucking hard to get a glimpse of a handful of cocks! Bras mysteriously pop and snap away at the sight of him, it is simply incomprehensible to Logan why he shouldn't have the same effect on pants and boxers. How can it be possible that he is able to steal, undetected, information and/or supplies from facilities with armed security, yet unable to get a glimpse of a penis with magnetic properties and another of indigo characteristics (and the red one too, because why not).   
  
Well actually, Logan knew the fucking reason.   
  
Scott let-me-flash-you-my-dick-and-cock-block-you-from-all-the-dicks-in-the-hood Summers.  
  
Just this early afternoon, the kid's wiener was what greeted him behind Erik's en suite bathroom door, because apparently all the other toilets in this wing of the mansion was occupied. It's telling that Logan was so immersed in getting a look at a certain penis, he'd rushed into Erik's room, after observing his quiet, sudden departure from Charles' side, only to miss the man standing by the wall adjacent to the bathroom door with legs casually but purposefully crossed, and eyes growing wider as he witnesses Logan's mad dash into his locked and occupied en-suite bathroom.  
  
The same flaccid flesh was also the only thing on display when Logan suggested the men take a sauna day last week, and Scott and Logan were the ones who didn't see the need to cover themselves with a towel.  
  
Every attempt at some cock espionage is thwarted by one Boy Visor. It's gotten to a point where Jean is either going to turn Logan's brain into soggy cereal or have a serious gossip session with him in a pillow fort over hot chocolate.  
  
And then there was Charles.   
  
The tot who mocked his very existence. Without even knowing or trying.  
  
For example, yesterday...  
  
"Bigga! No! ! Bigga bigga! !"  
  
Logan pulled a few neck muscles (which immediately healed) in his rush to peer through the thin wooden blinds to see a butt naked Charles running around on the soft green grass, thanks to Ororo, while he giggled and screeched widely, ordering Angel to turn up the sprinkler. Soon, Angel had taken flight, and was chasing after Charles with the hose on full power, and still the boy doesn't stop screaming 'Bigga! !'.  
  
Then lunch today...  
  
"Bigga! I wantits Bigga!”  
  
With every 'Bigga' Logan's gaze, from sitting unabashedly low on his seat, jumps from crotch to crotch, cursing at the cloth from which his target is hidden within. His wondering eye catches the sight of a very unzipped and open fly, only to regurgitate a little in his mouth when Logan looks up above to table to be on the receiving end of Scott's glare via eyebrows.   
  
“Bigga! Sean is too small! Wantits like Erie Bigga!"  
  
Sean smiles fondly at the demanding boy, and the man must have the patience of a Saint, since his expression is never exasperated, not even jokingly. The red-head goes in for another scoop, giving Charles a larger serving of the buttery mashed potatoes deceptively filled with peas, sprouts and broccoli bits so that the boy takes his greens.  
  
"Yeeeeeah~ Dats it."  
  
Along with the creeper talk, Chuckles also bounces his nappy-clad bottom, barely covered by his leg-less onesie, up down and around Erik's stomach area, a plastic squelch sounding at every contact, while the man balanced the boy standing on his lap.  
  
"I think this is enough. You can have more if you finish."  
  
It certainly was a larger serving than what Charles was normally given, but it was still about a third of Erik's serving, with whom Charles shares his dining space.  
  
"But I'mma big boy! I can take it Bigga! Like Erie Bigga! Peeeez!"  
  
Logan looks around the table incredulous as to why he is the only person disturbed by the obvious innuendo spewing from the mouth of a two year old. Granted half of the filth that normally spews out of lil'bub's mouth is at Logan's urging, but _this_ was something even he found inappropriate.  
  
"You alright, Logan? Look a little pale."  
  
All at once, too many sets of eyes focus on Logan, pulling him rigidly into an upright position. Before the man could even think of an adequately sarky reply to cover his momentarily lapse of panic, Charles skips around the table over to him with his little hands behind his back, a shy smile on his face. When he reaches Logan, Charles doesn't do the usual, and climb up into his lap, instead, he lifts an arm and reaches his hand high over his head, and plops into Logan's plate a little gift.  
  
Logan watches stunned as a fat nub of homemade cocktail sausage, just over an inch in length, rolls haphazardly on his half forgotten plate.   
  
"Your's!"  
  
If Logan were in a more level headed, rational state, he'd have gone a little gooey, deep inside, at Charles' attempt at cheering him up. But let's face it, calm, collected rationality clashes with his style, so instead of being comforted by the tight hug the boy is giving his thigh, Logan's eyes twitch in agitation as Charles wipes his food stained face over his jeans.  
  
~  
  
Drastic times calls for the usual Logan Howlett measures. Fuck all this covert, behind the shadows crap. Logan faces his enemies head on and claws out. He's not going to a let little thing like decency stop him from stalking up to Hank from behind, adamantium ready to be unleashed upon some unsuspecting trousers. But when Hank disappears from view around a corner, Scott intercepts him, blocking Logan path to success with his visor set on level pain-in-the-ass.  
  
"I like Hank alot. He's family. And I will never approve of you, so you should stop now. He deserves better than you."  
  
The unspoken 'asshole' at the end was nonetheless heard loud an clear. Instead of questioning his life choices, Logan's mind immediately tried to work out what hallucinogenic drugs the kid on, because there was no other explanation why he would think Logan had a sudden hankering for some Y chromosome other than his own.   
  
Logan was left so dumbfounded, he might have stood frozen in place for the rest of the day, because the next thing he knew, he was being watched earnestly by a pop-corn eating Ororo and a cocktail sausage munching Charles, both sitting in their pajamas in the hallway. It was Charles who noticed Logan's awareness first, and the boy smugly offers him an even smaller sized sausage.   
  
~  
  
So after an emasculating two weeks, Logan has finally admitted defeat. But he's going down with a bang. He stood outside the shut bathroom door, fists clasped tightly, verging on automatically triggering his claws. Logan knew very well who was behind this wooden door. After two weeks of being tormented by this duo, he could find them in his sleep. He was going to freak them out a little. Just as he is about to slice through the door, the unmistakable voice of a bumbling toddler echoed from within the bathroom.  
  
"...Logan Bigga! !"  
  
 _Well_.   
  
Logan thought as he stepped back silently from the still-intact door. _That just leaves one to torment_.   
  
Now with a renewed sense of purpose, Logan whips out his cigar and walks with a kick in his step. He feels like he's learned something invaluable. Exactly what, he doesn't care. The most important thing is, he's got a new mission in life.   
  


Cockblock Scott Summers.


	20. Sixteen and Nothing Sweet About It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are not enough adjectives to describe how sorry I am about the slowness of my writing. I'm in the process of trying to venture into my own business, and it's basically all consuming.
> 
> THANK YOU ALL so much for bearing with me and the continued comments/kudos/alerts/favs. No snapshot this time since I didnt want to delay the update anything further, I'll hope to post a snapshot within a fortnight.
> 
> The end of this chapter might scare some of you off, but have faith in my worship of the Cherik :) It's just my way of attempting to reconcile comic!canon with XMFC. And I’ve been going back and forth on how I wanted to end this story, so I think I’ve hit a sorta-compromise btwn my 2 ideas, so at least I know how I want to end this!

"It was an accident!"

 

Raven directed a look at Erik that bellowed 'what the fuck is fucking wrong with you, you fucker' and continued speaking.

 

"Erik didn't mean to injure you. We were under attack, and he unknowingly deflected a bullet straight into you... H-he wouldn't hurt you intentionally."

 

Raven muttered that final part mostly to herself, but the three other grown men looked like they knew something she doesn't.

 

"I... I ahh..."

 

It wasn't that Charles was at a loss of what to say. It was more that his brain could not process the last ten minutes at all. He felt detached from what was currently happening around him, like an outside observer, across from a thick glass barrier. The world was moving around him, and he was stuck in a numb void. Was this helplessness how knowing your destiny feels like? Things might have been easier if they really were all vivid figments of his hyperactive imagination. So Charles' mind focuses on what it can absorb for the time being, the least traumatic; the vomit all over him and on the floor around his feet.

 

"I... I should get this cleaned up."

 

Sean moves to give Charles a few gentle pats on the shoulder. The telepath hardly felt the touch, his senses so severely blurred still.

 

"I'll clean it. You go get changed, and if you're up for it, Hank'll give you your next treatment."

 

"...yes. Okay. I should... I need to... I'll just..."

 

Charles doesn't feel what must have been Hank's large hand between his shoulder blades, quietly encouraging the sputtering teen out of the room.

 

~x~

 

More than an hour passes before Charles consciously takes note of his surroundings. He doesn't remember changing into a fresh set of clothes, let alone taking a shower, but his hair is damp and he could smell the minty citrous of the shower gel Ororo had picked with him on one of their supply runs, to him years ago, but knowing better now, a mere few weeks before. The young man wants to slap himself for ignoring all the obvious clues and irregularities right in front of him. He can't help but think back on everything, analyze and dissect every memory he treasures. What was real? What was brought about because of guilt. What? What...?

 

Sheer mental exhaustion stopped Charles in his tracks, one of his hands slides up the etched wallpaper to balance his swaying body. Before Hank, who was leading the pair to the lab, could come to his aid they hear Alex's raised voice through the shut doors of the nearest room. The seething anger in his voice immediately snapped Charles out the murky labyrinth of his thoughts.

 

"-the fuck is wrong with the two of you!? You just stood there and let her spew this bullshit!? You want Charles to be manipulated by them?”

 

Sean must have said something in reply, but his calm, level voice could not be heard through the doors. Nonetheless it was abundantly clear that whatever Sean said in reply only riled Alex further, as he raises the volume and fury.

 

"You were there with me Sean! Have you fucking forgotten what Charles was like at the hospital? What those first months back were like for him?”

 

Charles couldn't help it, he needed to hear every word, so he stepped right up to the door and listened through the slight gap, pleading with his eyes at Hank to allow him to eavesdrop.

 

"Shut up and calm the fuck down, Alex."

 

Alex snorts at Sean's words, his tone much lower than usual.

 

"Charles is gonna remember what happened one way or another. We should let him find out in his own way."

 

"Yeah, well, that's very unlikely if they're gonna play dirty."

 

"Alex... I'm not going to let them either. I'm not gonna let them hurt him again."

 

"Don't you see? It's already too late. I should have fought harder against letting the Professor go into that chamber."

 

"This isn't your fault. It's also not Hank's."

 

"Fuck, I know okay! And stop before you say this isn't that asshole's fault either.”

 

“I'm not going to make excuses for Erik, but what happened in Cuba and perhaps even before then... it's something Charles needs to confront Erik himself.”

 

“...it's just... Damnit, you saw didn't you? What Charles projected when he was on all those meds. That bullet isn't what I'm pissed about. He more or less drove that fucking coin through his head. I won’t stand by and let something like that happen to him again.”

 

“We won’t, Alex. We wont.”

 

Charles steps away from the door, his body language tentative but his mind solidly made up. Hank looks wary and guilty, no doubt having heard every word exchanged behind those doors with his acute hearing. The young man gives the blue beast a wordless but unequivocal nod, then leads them both towards the lab.

 

* * *

 

 

Charles knew all too well how emotions and adrenaline can affect the brain, making one perceive matters with personal bias, but the images that Hank's memories replay for him, of his older-self struggling against an immovable Erik bent on massacring all those soldiers, the careless flick of Erik's arm that propels a bullet into unintended flesh followed by the almost too-slow descent of his body onto the sandy surface, his head and upper torso held steadfastly within Erik's embrace...

 

The memories go fuzzy with static when Raven takes Erik's proffered hand, and disappears in the cloud of charcoal smoke.

 

Then Charles sees nothing at all when Raven's voice continuously echoes the words, 'Mutant and proud', while intermixed with his own voice saying 'I can't feel my legs.'

 

All the while a haunting image of a spinning coin spears through the mind like a blunt blade...

 

* * *

 

 

"Was I... Did I fail you?"

 

Raven knew Charles would be confronting her sooner or later, but all that emotional preparation did little to quell the aching anxiety bleeding through her. Charles' hollowed whisper only adding to her inner turmoil.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Hank... he let me see what happened... what he saw that day. In Cuba.”

 

The shifter's deep citrine eyes falls shut as she lets out a shaky breath.

 

“I...”

 

“You left with them. You left us. Left me. Was it... was it because I didn't treat you right? Did I not protect you from C-Cain? Oh my God... Did I hurt you? Do I turn out to be just like Cain?"

 

"Charles, no! It's not like that at all! Don't even go there!”

 

“Then... why?”

 

Raven thought better than to answer with a 'you let me go'. It would no doubt add to Charles' misunderstanding.

 

“I needed to prove myself. I needed to come out of your protective shadow, Charles. I know you were doing everything you thought was right by me, but... but I was suffocating. You made me feel ashamed of my mutation-”

 

“W-what? What did I... Oh my God! What have I done to you?”

 

The sick horror in Charles' voice and expression drained the oxygen of Raven's blood. Her trembling arms wrapped around Charles not merely to reassure her brother, but also to keep herself from breaking down completely.

 

“Charles, believe me when I say that you are the best thing that's happened to me. But I think deep down, you've known for a long time, my place in this world was never going to be beside you. And that's why you let me go. So that I can make my own path, seek my own purpose.”

 

Charles remained within Raven's embrace, and his voice still wrecked.

 

“...are you happy with your decision? Was leaving the right choice for you?”

 

In all honesty, Raven still did not know the answer to that. She knew that she owed Charles her life, and that she couldn't have had a better, safer, happier childhood than with Charles. But something deep within her, a numbing voice almost, keep telling the shapeshifter that she doesn't belong with Charles, that she is destined for a path all of her own.

 

* * *

 

 

“What did you do to Warren?”

 

Emma doesn't even bother looking up from her magazine to acknowledge the young man's presence, though she is inwardly surprised that it was the younger Summers' brother who has come to confront her.

 

“You'll have to be more specific, sugar.”

 

“So you're admitting you've done more than this to him?”

 

“Define 'this'.”

 

Scott's expressive brows scrunch together in frustration, earning him an oh-so very slight, but amused grin from the immaculately groomed telepath, but still she denies him eye contact.

 

“How about his sudden hatred of Miss MacTarggert for starters.”

 

Moira had visited the mansion, now Institute, a handful of times since she helped bring Warren back. She had taken in everyone's gifts with awe and respect, even turning a blind eye to the attacks 'the brotherhood' had made upon her employers and colleagues. All the children were quite taken with Moira, her presence and understanding nature fueling the hope that one day soon, they would no longer have to hide their gifts beyond the mansion’s vast gardens. Warren of course held special affection for her, and there's now a running joke in the household that the young man needs to decide between Jean and Moira already.

 

All of that changed today when Warren told Moira with direct eye contact, and without a single stutter, that she doesn't belong here with them. Shock morphed into hurt on the agent's face as Sean tried to reassure her that it wasn't so, that she was welcome here. The agent left with glistening eyes and a sad smile that did not reach her eyes.

 

Emma flips a page and continues her nonchalance.

 

“I would see it as overcoming his weaknesses.”

 

“Moira wasn't a weakness for him. He told us that she was the only person he could look forward to seeing, and how she was the only one to talked to him, not at him. She was the only one who didn't treat him like a freak. She gave him hope, strength.”

 

“And all that just proves that humanity wishes to see us contained, neutralized or eliminated. MacTarggert is merely an anomaly.”

 

“No! It proves that there are people who understand and are willing to accept us for who we are. It proves that there can be peace!”

 

' _Well, Xavier sure has potential in this one_.'

 

Emma was about to try to end this futile conversation by stating that it was Warren who came to her, when the younger man continued.

 

“Look into my mind, Emma. You'll see that I've never been hurt by non-mutants. The only person who's ever given me the creeps is Dr. Essex. I know he's mutant.”

 

The telepath tilts her head in surprise and consideration, her first proper reaction to Scott since he entered the room.

 

“And I know you and Erik know something about the doctor, something involving Alex and myself. Jean saw glimpses of the doctor the night after Cain Marko attacked.”

 

The telepath made a mental note to up the training of her fellows' mental shields.

 

“Yes, I do know of his connection to you. Doesn't mean it's anything... sinister.”

 

Even though Scott would have completely missed the pun, Emma had to cringe at that tastelessly chosen name.

 

“...I know with my glasses or these visors... people forget I'm not actually blind. They let their guard slip, and I can tell easily when they're lying to me. I can also tell that you're hiding behind that frosty persona. That you care a lot about all of us, especially the younger of us. I see how much you enjoy teaching us, teaching Jean and Charles about their powers. And the fact that what you did to Warren wasn't permanent, that Charles was easily able to reverse it, means that deep down, you know war isn't the only way.”

 

Scott knew he's probably stepped over some line, but couldn't help but go on.

 

“You should consider it, you know. Staying here to teach... I'd... we'd really like it if you chose to stay.”

 

And for the first time in too many years, before Shaw, before Hellfire, before the devastating rejection by a human, her first love, Emma Frost's eyes softened and a genuine, albeit melancholic smile brightened her face.

 

“Perhaps in another lifetime, sugar. A life where we teach alongside each other at this very school. Where we can be equals outside of this estate... But that's all a dream for another lifetime...”

 

* * *

 

 

The incident with Warren had everyone further on edge, and so everyone had attributed Charles’ withdrawal and quiet demeanor to the events of the past two weeks. Raven, the only person who might have realised something deeper was wrong, was too wrapped up within her guilt and turmoil, she had completely forgotten the significance of Charles regaining the memories of his fifteenth year.  
  
Charles liked to think that his mother died of a broken heart rather than the official cause of alcohol poisoning and liver failure. Kurt had promised her so much, and in the beginning, he had tried to give her everything he could. But the lure of money, power and prestige changed him, as it did Charles’ own father.

  
In many ways, Sharon’s death had freed Charles. And that is what haunts Charles currently; remembering how he could finally breathe with ease because he no longer had to worry about his mother’s health or sanity. He remembers wanting to hate her, for not being the mother he desperately needed, for not shielding him from his own father’s experiments, for letting the Marko’s in, for being so easily bent by the self-absorbed society she was bred into.

 

He doesn’t know whether it will ever stop hurting that his earliest memory is of her letting down her hair, kicking off her shoes and twirling freely in the sun drenched garden with him held tightly within her embrace.

 

* * *

 

It has been a little over a week since Charles was told the whole truth of his condition. It was also the last time since the now fifteen year old has spoken to Erik. The avoidance came from both sides, and even though Charles couldn't help but miss Erik and feel a pang within him from the deliberate silence, he understood the older man was allowing him the space he needs to come to grips with the revelation. Charles was perhaps never going to be ready to confront Erik fully. To have the man explain the choices he made that day on that beach.

 

However, with the heavy tension seeping throughout the mansion, and after what happened between Warren and Moira, the young telepath knew he could no longer put off their conversation.

 

The young man vehemently ignores the thought that this should be called a confrontation instead.  

 

Charles finds Erik in the library, staring at the worn, but well cared for chess set. Erik looks up at him with a blank face. Well, not quite blank, because Charles knew Erik well enough to see the buried fragility, and the hidden guilt. The man sat in what has been wordlessly agreed between the two of them as his seat across the chess set. The telepath takes his seat opposite and sets up the board, hands nimble and graceful, clear evidence of the younger man’s familiarity with the pieces. Still with no words exchanged, their game begins, with all their concentration and unspoken tension directed into the game.

 

By now, both knew each other’s approach to the game. While Charles liked to think of himself as a larger-picture strategist, he knew his weakness was in fussing over the possible loss of every piece, the need to save rather than sacrifice. Very much the opposite of the man before him.

 

The telepath can’t help but ponder whether Erik's thoughts are organized in a long series of tactical moves, much like the man’s approach to each game.

 

“It’s true. I did see you and everyone else as a means to an end.”

 

And as if Erik were the telepath in the room, their silence was finally broken when he spoke to answer the question Charles was too afraid to ask.

 

“For so much of my life, it was all I knew. To use people to get to Shaw. To trust no one. To keep people out. To be alone.”  
  
The older man paused and inhaled a deep breath.

 

“I used you Charles. And I wasn’t… I’m not sorry about it. I did what I had to do, what I have to do still.

 

"I… I don't believe you. You wouldn't do that to me. We've- I- I know you care about me, you wouldn't use me or hurt me like that."

 

"Then you don't know me very well at all."

 

The cold blankness, and brutal honesty in Erik’s eyes rips at Charles’ very core, and the boy simply can't fathom this abrupt 180 change coming from the man opposite him.

 

"But.. but I do know you. This can’t have all been a lie, some elaborate way to hurt me further… I-I’m not some mere pawn.”

The young telepath’s hand closed tightly around a single chess piece.  
  
“...am I?

 

In a few swift movements, Erik is kneeling down beside him so that they can be eye to eye. Charles’ empty hand was trembling as Erik gently holds it in his and places it to the side of his temple.  
  
“Look. And see that none of this was a lie.”

  
Charles lets his eyes slide shut. He sees what has Erik lost, what he had endured, what he had to overcome, what there is still to overcome... And what more he is willing to sacrifice.

 

By the time Erik regains full consciousness again, their foreheads are touching, and the elder’s voice continues, though with a raw tenderness.

 

“Nothing has truly changed, we’re still the same people, with the same ideals. I am sorry that you were hurt... but this is bigger than the two of us. It’s bigger than all of us.”  
  
“...but everything has already changed…”

 

Charles manages to keep his voice unbroken, forces his body to not tremble at Erik’s conflicted thoughts on leaving the mansion once Charles has ‘recovered’. He looks directly into Erik’s light hazel eyes with hope and desperation.   
  
“Please don’t leave us.”

 

...was what Charles voiced out, but his mind held a truer wish.

 

_Don’t leave me._

 

* * *

 

 

It was heading into the second week of Logan's search for Victor Creed. Two weeks since he had asked Azazel to zap him to the vicinity of that man's last known location. Two weeks since he'd slept on a proper bed. Two weeks since he's snarled at and pretended not to be fond of a certain bunch of rambunctious teens.

 

He would deny it till the end of days, but every time Logan thinks about how a fiery-haired, barely ten year old girl had domesticated him (just that little bit) it would bring the slightest of smiles to his face. It was never going to be anytime soon that he locked away his oversized rucksack which contained practically all that he currently owned, but he had begun to leave items in his room at the mansion. Little things at first, like dirty laundry he tells himself he'd pick up the next time round, or bits and bobs he'd picked up here and there without much thought. He still doesn't know how to feel about his acknowledgment that he actually has a room in the mansion to go back to.

 

Logan will probably never be able to admit, even to himself, that it felt good to have a place to return to other than his rusty old truck. The mansion wasn't his home, he doesn’t do homes, not anymore. But the burly man can’t help but anticipate his every return to the welcoming fragrance of the blooming flowers cared for by Ororo, the equal parts challenging and awed interactions on Scott’s end, the quick smile and quicker wit from Charles…

 

And of course one tiny little girl that had him twisted around her little pinky finger.

 

That being said, the girl's maturity was probably of an age older than Logan's, if he only knew what his real age was.

 

However, each time he allows himself the feeling of contentedness, his mind flashes back to a scene overflowing with blood and ripped flesh, and Logan knows his reality.

 

That things can never be content when Creed is still out there alive.   
  
~x~  
  
On the third consecutive night of sleeping in his truck, since he’d run out of money to afford a room, Logan had given in, and started his long journey back in the direction of Westchester. He had been driving nonstop for hours, before finally yielding to his growling stomach. The rain had been relentless the whole day, making distance scent tracking impossible, so Logan finds himself killing time in a back alley cardroom after a quick greasy meal.  
  
Within a few games, Logan has more than enough cash to rent a decent room for the night, but the high of winning has him glued to his seat, and focused on nothing else but the cards. The heady smell of tobacco within the confined space was so thick, it was a wonder that Logan's ultra-sensitive nose was able to pick up a slither of the scent that nearly triggers his claws to rip out from his knuckles. Logan slowly took an even more detailed stock of his surroundings, his senses narrowing in on a man playing at one of the partially filled tables in the high stakes corner. If he was able to pick up the scent in such an environment, it could only mean the man has had prolonged and close proximity to Creed.

 

Even with the man’s back towards him, Logan could tell man used his charms as a weapon. His posture was relaxed, almost invitingly and playfully so, and if the way the female croupier blushes and smiles at his every word was any indication, the man’s winning streak comes from more than just luck.

 

Logan makes his way over and sits down in one of the empty seats, furthest away from the man so that he could get a better look at his face, only to have it obstructed with a pair of red-lensed aviators. Logan immediately comes up with several plans of attack and offence to deal with possible optical blast powers like Scott’s. Along with the eyewear, everything else about the younger man oozed effortless charm, but none of it fully hides his youth.

 

“Ain't ya a little young to be gambling?”

 

The man takes a moment to give Logan a once over, one end of his mouth slowly lifting up.  
  
“I’m legal, in all the ways tha’ counts, mon cher.”  
  
Even with the obscuring glasses, Logan could tell there was a wink that came with the sly smirk. He had a thick Cajun accent that only amplified his charm, his body indicated no ounce of awkwardness or alarm. It left Logan at a momentary loss. He couldn’t tell whether the younger man was here on his own, their meeting of pure coincidence, or that this was the most elaborate and genius set up he’d had the misfortune to step into.

 

“Ain’t ya’ lil’ poor for dis table, cheri?”

 

A knot starts to form in the pit of Logan’s gut, and he can’t decide whether it’s from dread or excitement. He reaches into the covered breast pocket of his well worn leather jacket for his half finished cigar, makes a show of lighting it up and inhaling, before throwing down the minimum bet $50 chip.

“Your move, bub.”

 

* * *

 

 

_“-if anything else, we need you to be honest with yourself.”_

 

Erik ordered a cup of double espresso and a bread platter without taking his eyes off of Charles, who was still looking through the menu, chewing at his lips in consideration, yet there was such a polished, charming aura about the younger man, the waitress seemed only too happy to answer Charles' questions about what is recommended.

 

_"You need to decide what is more important to you."_

 

They were sat at an intimately sized table for two, in a cafe less than ten minutes drive from the mansion, the least pretentious cafe along this stretch of prime real estate. It was the first time they had been out of the mansion alone since Charles was told the truth of his condition.

 

The young man was obviously tense, his body language a mix of anxiety and excitement. Erik had no doubt if he tapped into his powers, he would be able to feel the faster blood flow within the telepath.

 

"If it's him, then you need to stop stringing the rest of us along. You have potential to be a great leader, but you have one blaring weakness right now."

 

And isn't that just ironic? How long had Erik fought to be rid of any weaknesses of the heart? How much loss has he suffered to ingrain Shaw's lesson into him?

 

But sitting across this small square table was someone who is proving to be every contradiction in Erik’s life.

 

_"If it's us, then you need to be prepared to-"_

 

Prepared to do what, Erik didn't need Emma to tell him. He's had increasingly sleepless nights going over and over in his head about whether he should, and if so how he will change the ‘past’. It's not everyday one gets a second chance to alter destiny. To write a new path for another life. Another mutant's life.

 

A life so trusting of him, he would probably let Erik alter his fate, even though he knew what betrayal Erik had inflicted.

 

_"Whether we continue to work together is now up to you. But I want an answer by the end of the week."_

 

Emma's words from a few nights back haunts him endlessly. The others of the Brotherhood, a name which the non-mutant media have called them which had somehow stuck, have also been throwing questioning glances at him, unsure whether they should still see him as their leader. There was no more putting this off then.

 

Erik holds his breath for a full minute. Then makes up his mind.

 

"Charles, I-"

 

“M-Max? I-is that truly you? Max Eisenhardt?”

 

Erik felt his blood freeze. Nobody alive today knows this name. His real name. A name that died when he felt the last shreds of his humanity ripped from him all those years ago. Erik's vision narrowed in on the female figure approaching their table. Her body was too thin, skin veering on sallow, her auburn curls dull and tied tightly in a bun. But even those dark bags haunting her blue eyes could not disguise them from him.

 

“Magda?”

 

~x~

 

Charles watched in stunned silence, bewildered eyes flitting between Erik and this woman who has brought upon Erik's face an expression Charles had never seen on him before. He wanted to ask straightaway who she was, revert to his tried and tested charms to access the information he craves, needs. However, dread traps his voice in his throat. A dread that pulls around his neck, suffocating him as he felt himself blur into background.

 


	21. Snapshot interlude: The Boy and His Idol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew~ A long-ish snapshot for ya’ll! This one’s been long in the making, hope its not too scattered in thought and writing.

**Charles, aged 4 1/2**

 

The children sat together on the couch, enraptured by the television, the screen replaying the breaking news broadcast of the days before.

 

The blazing snowstorm outside that even Ororo knew not to tamper with had not stopped all day, so Alex had let the children lounge in front of the TV after a morning of lessons with Hank, with steaming beverages and snacks on hand.

 

Charles, bundled within woollens and thick down blankets, sat contentedly beside Jean and nibbled on a carrot stick.

 

They had long learned to limit Charles' sugar intake to only a few servings of sugary fruit or juice a day and no more than two servings of sweetened snacks. It took the entire household a further excruciating lesson to learn that only one person is allowed to give Charles his sugary snacks, since naturally the toddler had figured out to ask each adult separately his allowed snack serving. No one got sleep for two consecutive nights.

 

"He. Is. So. Cool."

 

Scott's attention had been glued onto the flashing screen more so than the others in the room.

 

"Who? That Tin-Man?"

 

"Shuddup Al, he's the Iron Man. And I wanna be just like him when I grow up."

 

Even the red visors couldn't diminish the wistful look on Scott's face. A mist of hot chocolate came bursting past Alex's lips. He turns towards his younger brother, red faced and expression bewildered.

 

"What!? Don't you want to be me when you grow up!? What's he got that I don't? I'm awesome!"

 

Scott's eyebrows clearly articulated 'bitch, please'. But before the younger Summers was able to retort, Charles piped in and raised an even more important issue.

 

"Does that mean Jean's gonna wanna be Ms. Potty?"

 

It was Jean's turn to choke on her drink, delicate hands flailing about, trying to simultaneously cover her mouth and strangle one big mouthed boy over their fortress of poofy blankets.

 

Scott, being the oblivious sweetheart that he is, had to go on and make the poor girl blush even harder.

 

"I didn't know you're a fan of Ms. Potts, Jean. But I think you're more awesome than her."

 

"Awww, Scotty, you say the sweetest things. That still doesn't explain why you wouldn't wanna grow to be all THIS."

 

Alex gestured at himself with both hands flying up and down, which had Ororo laughing and piping in the discussion, fueling everyone in the room to speak over each other about who their idols were.

 

Alarms should have sounded at the sight of Charles' extra wide, extra inquisitive, and thoughtful gaze at everyone around him.

 

* * *

 

 

It starts with Raven.

 

The first thing after breakfast the next day, Charles had disappeared off into the mansion, excitement in abundance, so everyone left the boy to his own devices. It was not until nearly midday when Erik began to worry that the boy had not come looking for him to ask for a drink or snack.

 

"Charles? Are you in here?"

 

Erik entered the to find Charles wearing a blue onesie and a red t-shirt slung over his head upside down through the neck opening, to act as hair.

 

"Hello Magnet-toes!"

 

"Uhhhh... Charles?"

 

"It's Miss Teek!"

 

Well, now that Erik came out of his shock, he can see in a broad sense that Charles’ getup kind of did resemble Raven, in the way a boy clad all in blue with a red shirt used as fake hair can. Oh, not to mention the two pairs of mismatched blue socks, bundled into balls, and stuff under the onesie, in what Erik assumes should be Raven’s breasts, but one has managed to fall down to the boy’s stomach level.

 

"Okaaay Mystique... Did you wan-"

 

"Hold on a sec!"

 

Charles lounges himself behind the expensively upholstered sofa, making little excited and struggling noises. After much ruffling of cloth, Charles emerges in a different outfit, but with a yellow silk scarf for hair. At the last minute, Charles remembers to stuff the sock-boobs into his shirt.

 

"Hello, Erik! I’m Raven now!”

 

“Errr… Hi Raven, would you like-”

 

“Wait!”

 

Before Erik could stop Charles, the boy has dashed off behind the sofa again to change.  This weird exchange continues for the rest of the afternoon, with Erik unable to get more than a full sentence spoken, and Charles increasingly sloggy with his excitement and movements.

 

Just before dinner, an exhausted Charles tugs at Raven’s shirt, looking forlornly up at his sister with pouty lips. The boy’s chocolate curls are damped by sweat, ruffled in every direction, his cheeks a bright apple red.

 

"Raven... You're too much work. I don’wanna be you when I grow up.”

 

The shapeshifter has completely no idea what was going on, and the concerned yet confused look on Erik’s face meant that the man didn’t know any better either. All they were able to tell was that during dinner, Charles put his razor-sharp, bright blue eyes focus on his next target: Sean.

 

Put simply, the following days were on the humorous side of chaotic for the mansion.

 

Being Sean meant a day yelling and screaming into a handmade paper megaphone, which everyone had to give props to the boy for figuring out how to make himself.  Nevertheless, Ororo didn’t look sorry when she ‘accidently’ lost control of her abilities and formed a little dark cloud atop the megaphone, letting a sizeable downpour of rain, eviscerating the paper into a slushy mush. Every single piece of paper had at the same time disappeared from the mansion, while Scott and Jean smugly high-fived each other.

 

Charles found himself enjoying being Hank, wrapped tightly within a thick blue woollen sweater borrowed from Alex, Angel’s extra long blue feather boa, two patches of furry blue ribbon stuck onto his brows, and a pair of spectacles on his head while helping Hank with his research. It wasn’t until the feathers had Charles sneezing, making his faux-brows drop into and wrecking their third attempt at analyzing a dust sample of Logan’s adamantium did Charles obey Hank’s pleading puppy eyes and got changed into his own clothes.

 

Angel was a tougher challenge for the young telepath, as he tried to flap his makeshift wings, made out of two of the thinnest white towels he could find, but only ending up knocking things over instead of lifting him off the ground.  His attempts at acidic spit was also a fail, most of his saliva landing down his chin and throat, some of it upwards into his nostrils.  

 

Charles had slightly better luck as Janos, wearing a dark brown shirt on his head, and armed with a hairdryer in each hand. Sadly, it meant he had to stay near an electrical outlet, and very few allowed both hairdryers to be plugged and used at the same time.

 

For Ororo, Charles learnt his lesson with Janos, so the boy used instead a single, larger electrical fan, while donning a white shirt for hair. The boy also had ice cubes and handmade lightning bolt cutouts at the ready, but gave up when all the ice cubes had melted and ruined his cutouts.

 

The next day had Charles walking around with a round plate stuck to his chest, and twirling around with shiney red strings. Scott was first to figure out who the boy was emulating, and smugly told his brother, “that’s why I don’t want to be you when I grow up, I can’t pull off the plate-on-my-chest look.”

 

Sadly, Logan wasn’t around to witness Charles’ adorable attempt as him, with a croissant tied to his head as the burly man’s pointy hairstyle, a celery stick in his mouth as a cigar, and large serving forks in each hand as claws.

 

It was surprising that no one thought of how messy things would get when Charles turned his sights to Azazel. The boy’s quick intellect had him sourcing the blackened soot and ash in the cooled down fireplace. After much pleading, Charles finally gave up his stash of black powder, but Azazel’s felt his heart sting at the poor child’s pout. So the teleporter snuck a bag of much-less-lung-threatening flour into Charles’ possession. The boy then spent the day lugging around a bag of self rising flour and throwing handfuls of it in the air then dashing off in giggles to hide under a chair before anyone can beg for the giddy boy to stop trying to be Azazel. The teleporter himself had thought this was the highest form of praise until he caught a sight of himself in a mirror, looking more pastel pink than blood red, while Raven had laughed so hard, she inhaled a whole handful of flour. All white powdery substances could not be found within a five mile radius for weeks.

 

It was easy to guess it was Scott’s turn when Charles donned a pair of red spectacles, handmade from cardboard and painted a vibrant red. Unfortunately the boy hadn’t known to cut holes into the lense area so that at least he could see, and spent more than an hour trying to leave the large library. He did enjoy being hand fed his meals and drinks by Erik though.

 

Only a short half hour was attempted by the boy at being Emma. It was the middle of winter, and there was only so long a boy could sashay around in nothing but a pair of white briefs. Not to mention the scrunched up balls of tin foil, Charles’ interpretation of Emma’s diamond breasts, was giving the poor boy a rash.

 

Everyone had thought Charles had finally lost steam in his little endeavor at finding his role model, when in the afternoon the boy seemed to act like himself, even using his telepathy for the first time in over a week. The only thing weird was his sudden infatuation with all things Scott, and soon a sputtering and scarlet red Jean dragged the younger boy with her into her room and convinced the boy to stop

 

The next day, everyone was anticipating Charles’ final role play. It had not escaped anyone’s notice that one person had been blaringly omitted so far. Surprising, since the young boy didn’t usually have the willpower to ‘safe the best till last’, especially when it came to a certain metal lover. But the image of a little boy draped in a maroon towel with a silver salad bowl tipped upside down over his head never came to fruition, as the day was dwindled into darkness, and a satiated Charles cuddled comfortably into Hank’s warm fur after finishing dessert post dinner. Throughout the day, Erik’s expression changed from embarrassed anticipation to befuddled panic to downright slouching in a corner drawing sad squiggles on the polished hardwood floor with his finger.

 

"So ah... Why don't you want to be Erik, Charles?"

 

Raven's voice was soft and slightly perturbed, but her face was obviously a breath away from choking on laughter, nostrils twitching in uncontrolled mirth. Because Erik's look of constipated self-consciousness with a pound of hurt pride is absolutely hilarious.

 

"Ew! No! That's yuck!"

 

Everyone can just about see Erik's soul freeze and shatter into tiny flecks of gloomy dust. Before Erik could shrink further into the corner walls, Charles piped up again.

 

"We're married! Can't have Erik marry Erik. That's weird! Erik isn't a eagle-testicle bats-turd!"

 

“A-a what?”

 

Raven’s voice with shaking and breathless, unable contain her laughter any longer.

 

“Eagle-testicle bats-turd! ! I asked Hank what it means! And Erik isn’t any of those things!”

  
Off to the side, Sean can be seen giving Alex a punch to the arm, grumbling, “I told you he heard you call Erik an egotistical bastard.”


	22. Seventeen and Seeds are Sown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’ve said all this too many times, but I truly am so monumentally sorry about all the hiatuses in my writing. When RL did allow me the time to fic, my brain was more often just a blank void. Finally got all inspired by DoFP and managed to get a whole bunch of soon-to-come scenes written, but then my mind turned into mush again after watching the season finale of Hannibal…….
> 
> Slow progress in terms of time in this chapter, but I think it reads better as it’s own chapter, hopefully you’ll feel I’ve advanced the plot somewhat. 
> 
> Kept going back and forth on how old I should set the twins… And I think I may have taken the easy way out, but the plot I had originally planned really does not sit with how I’ve developed Erik. Took a whole lotta canon liberties with a few scenes in this chapter, hope it’s believable. 
> 
> Still undecided whether I want to attempt to make this story flow into DoFP so we'll see how things go. Do let me know if you have a preference though :)
> 
> Again, thank you all for the continued patience, understanding and encouragement! You’re the reason I haven’t just deleted this whole account. 
> 
> Snapshot to come asap. I’m running low on ideas, feel free to give me any.
> 
> Warning: Character deaths

_"...whether we continue to work together is now up to you. But I want an answer by the end of the week."_

 

Emma knew well her words would spur Erik into action. She was fairly certain the man is saying goodbye to Charles this very moment, perhaps even making his a case for the young telepath to support his cause. As much as Erik seemed to have settled into Westchester, the man still has too much rage within him, and as long as it is there, Erik would never be able to settle and find peace. Though on further thought, it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing if Erik remained here to assert a stronger influence over the younger and more impressionable.

 

However, if Emma was to be fully honest with herself, it was she who needed to get away from the mansion the most. Scott’s words to her during his confrontation about Warren left scratches on her solid, frozen wall of defences. A wall she thought she perfected well before she met Sebastian Shaw.

 

Scott’s subtle, and deeply hidden crush on her could so easily be molded into a weapon to use at her discretion. Yet, she finds herself unwilling to use this against the young man, and therefore the others who are deeply connected to him.

 

And that right there was the problem she needed to get away from before more cracks appear on her walls.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Angel has been pacing in her room for the good part of the day. She's packed, unpacked and repacked all over again her belongings she’s accumulated at the mansion without even realizing. After what must have been the fifth round of packing, she finally makes up her mind and purposefully zips her largest duffle bag shut.   
  
She knew that she was taking the coward’s way out, but she made her choice that day when Shaw attacked the CIA compound. It’s not as if Darwin coming back to life should change anything for her. She had made the choice to leave before he tried to act like a hero. Even if he hadn’t ‘died’ that day, she still would have chosen to leave with Shaw.

 

Right?

 

Darwin, of anyone, understands the brutal nature of survival. It’s a dirty game, and there is no room for weakness or guilt.   
  
It wasn’t as if though the mansion was a permanent arrangement anyway. She’d always known one day soon, they would leave this place behind. She had no place here, not even after Alex had made a meek attempt at showing concern for her still-not fully recovered wing. 

There’s no need to make it an event and say good bye to them.

 

Right?

 

“Good. You’re packed. We’re leaving in an hour.”

 

Angel managed to swallow down the yelp of surprise from Emma’s sudden appearance at her door. She doesn’t manage to hide the surprise in her voice.

 

“Really? All of us? Even Raven? Erik?”

 

“I’ve already alerted Raven, she has an hour to decide.”

 

“...and Erik?”

 

If Angel wasn’t looking out for it, she would have completely missed Emma’s minute tensing of her features, a sign of uncertainty.

 

“He’s out with Charles. If everything is as I predict, he’ll be back in time to leave with us… But on the off chance he decides to stay, it could still prove to be for our benefit. All the students he could recruit for us here.”

 

“Then why leave at all? Why not make this our base?”

 

“That’s not going to sit well with the trio, but it’s a plan we can use at a later date. Seeds take time and patience to come to fruition after all.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sean woke up too early that morning with a tight sourness in his gut. He tried going back to sleep, only to wake every few minutes and sighing at the clock. That pang only worsened when he heard that Erik had asked for Charles to head out with him alone, and the latter agreed. His suspicions were confirmed when Janos took him aside and thanked him for sharing a few of his cooking recipes and tips, having bonded a good deal over their shared time in the kitchen. Sean didn’t need to see the packed luggages to know the mansion will be empty of half it’s residents before sun down.

 

So he wasn't all that surprised when Charles walks almost lifelessly across the threshold of the front door, face drained of colour. He wasn’t surprised either at Erik’s solemn expression, but the level of shock, doubt and despair was much more than Sean anticipated.

 

No, what surprised the hell out of Sean and everyone else in the foyer when Charles and Erik returned was the slew of cursing that came out of Emma Frost's mouth.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Emma Frost is not one prone to fiery fury. Her anger seeps cold and blistering.

 

But right at this very instance in time, she feels a blazing anger she didn’t know she had within her.

 

It was all going better than she could have planned. Erik was going to work his magic against an emotionally vulnerable adolescent Charles, whether the elder intended or not. Charles, no matter when he recovers his full memories would be too attached to Erik and the rest of them to be able to take any real action against them, and his propensity for forgiveness would eventually work in their favour and unite them all together. They were finally going to come out of the shadows, fully start the inevitable war, and show the world once and for all the next step in evolution.

 

However, the images she pried from a momentary mentally exposed Charles puts everything in jeopardy. It’s not so much the appearance of Erik’s long lost wife that infuriates her, but the look of turmoil and self doubt on Erik’s face directed at that human. The telepath can’t fathom why she is still alive. Sebastian had made a show of killing that woman. Used that fact to taunt, torture and fully break Erik all over again.

 

Like hell was Emma going to let some human from Erik's past potentially destroy all of their hard work.

 

~x~

 

"I need you to take me somewhere."

 

Azazel, who had been holed up in Charles’ library, savoring what might be his last moments with this impressive collection of records and books, is on his feet immediately, a hand offered out to grasp.

 

As they disappear into black smoke, he can’t help a wistful glance back at a lifestyle he cannot choose for himself.

 

~x~

 

Emma mentally freezes the human’s mind before the human sensed that a demonic-looking being burst into her tiny, mildew covered room hand in hand with a scantily clad woman with a penchant for luxuriously made white lingerie. She will allow the fear and terror to slowly and painfully trickle in, magnified two fold, when the three of them are alone and no one can come to her rescue.

 

As a precaution, because Emma is nothing if not cautious, she takes a thorough look into the human’s memories to find out exactly why Shaw has left her alive. A barely there, astounded gasp manages to slip from Emma’s lips when she sees it.

 

Twins.

 

Adopted by the Maximoffs, whom Magda Eisenhardt is currently under the employ of as a housemaid, and the sponsors of her green card.

 

Erik’s.

 

Emma now understood why Shaw had let the human live, if only to let her give birth to X-gene carriers, however, she cannot see yet whether the twins are mutant or not, and before that comes to light, the twins will only hold Erik back. He cannot find out about them. Not right now. Not until their existence proves to be able to further fuel Erik’s determination.

 

The telepath reins in her anger, molds it into mental persuasion, and releases it into the human’s mental stream. When the time comes, all she has to do is to show the human the truth about the father of her children.

 

_Call Max. Arrange a meeting. Tell him you have something very important to show him._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kurt died a little over a year after Sharon.

 

With complete access to all the wealth of the Xavier estate, Kurt focused on finishing the construction of the vast underground bunker beneath the mansion, more than convinced that nuclear war was imminent. After that, Charles had expected his step-father to begin frivolous spending on an opulent lifestyle, but that never came. All larger expenses were discussed with Charles fully, his opinion weighing heavily on Kurt’s decisions, and more often than not, it was expenses for further scientific research, which Charles was fascinated with also. Spending on luxurious personal goods never spiraled upwards, and it seemed as if Kurt was only doing so to maintain an expected image.  

 

Charles couldn’t help but constantly wait for the other shoe to drop. However, at the same time, his mind would often ask one crucial question, what had Kurt really taken away from him? By now, he was old enough to see that his own father had used him. Experimented him and allowed others to do as well. Sharon’s distant demeanor and drinking started long before Kurt came into their lives. So why can’t he get over his hatred of the man?

 

The fire came about a month after Charles told the Marko’s his admittance into Oxford University. He wasn’t expecting Kurt’s utterly proud reaction, giving the young man a warm hug and letting him have his first taste of a Cuban cigar. It was perhaps the first time he felt he could come to see Kurt as his family, that he would want to make this man proud. 

“Kurt! Stay with me! An ambulance is on it’s way! Keep your eyes open! No no! Don’t fall asleep!”

 

There was a look in Kurt’s eyes that said he knew he was fading. The man had severe burns all along the left side of his face and body, and having gone back into the burning mansion to save Charles and Raven, the carbon monoxide he had inhaled was slowly shutting down his insides. The dying man’s eyes flickered to something behind Charles, and what he saw only caused Kurt’s face to twitch in pain. He grabbed tightly onto Charles’ shirt and pulled him close.

 

“B-beware of C-Cain…”

 

Charles didn’t tell anyone what Kurt Marko’s final words were, but he had a feeling Cain knew nonetheless.

 

Two weeks after a small intimate funeral, Charles had packed his and Raven’s bags and took their first class seats to England, where he was to begin his studies at Oxford on early admission. He had left instructions to his trustees and lawyers to give a generous inheritance to Cain, and save no expense at restoring Westchester to its former glory.

 

~x~

 

Charles looked blankly out at the acres upon acres of lush green grass that made up the mansion’s back yard. Knowing now what will become of his step brother, Charles regrets not working harder on their sibling relationship. Regrets not putting in more effort to treat the Markos as family.

 

He looks back into the room, seeing nothing but impeding emptiness. He can’t mess up his second chance at keeping his family together. He’ll beg Erik and the others to stay when the man returns from meeting with his wife.

 

It takes all his will to ignore the dire thought that Erik might not even choose to return after the meeting at all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s good to see you again, Max… I’ve missed you so much. I-I thought I had lost you all those years ago. He told me you had… that you were gone.”  
  
Magda had clearly made an effort with her appearance today, donning a rich purple dress that complemented her freshly washed auburn curls, let loose flowing down to her shoulders and catching the light with a subtle shine.

 

Their interaction is stilted and wary, made even more awkward when Magda lifted her arms for an embrace, only for Erik to go rigid and look away. Erik’s mental and emotional state is currently in a numb void, his whole world having been turned on its axis. It had been so easy to direct his anger and pain at humanity after he killed Shaw. But that was only because he believe he had lost all of his humanity that horrendous when Shaw’s men had found his and Magda’s hideout, and set it ablaze.  

 

“...I was told the same thing about you. I thought I had lost everything.”

 

The mutant feels his resolve crumble just that little bit when he sees tears running down the face of the woman he loved. But he can’t allow himself to be weakened. The last time Erik did so, he thought he’d lost her.

 

“You said you have something you wanted to show me.”

 

“Yes! They’re-”

 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a dozen armed men ambushed the duo, firing off round after round of ammunition. Of course Erik has the attackers dealt with bloodily before he even reprimands himself for lowering his guard and not picking up the trace of metallic weaponry in the vicinity.

 

“Are you hurt?”

 

The woman’s legs shook with terror as she tried to back further into the wall, further away from the man who massacred a squad of men with a single raised hand. He didn’t even need to look in their direction to be able to drive sharp pieces of metal through their bodies.

 

“Y-you’re one of them! One o-of those things! !”

 

Magda owed it to their shared history that Erik did not send a nearby metal pipe straight through her heart before she finished her outburst.

 

“Magda, listen-”

 

“Stay away from me you freak! ! Get away get away GET AWAY! ! !”

 

A distinct and haunting hum of metal grew louder and louder as Magda continued to scream.

 

“You’re not the man I loved. You’re a monster, just like him! ! You stay away from me! Stay away from us! ! !”

 

And in that moment, Erik knew he doesn’t have a choice. Charles, the school, peace… it has and will never ever be an option.

 

“That’s right. I’m no longer Max Eisenhardt. I am Magneto. And the only reason I leave you alive today is because Max did truly love you. You will not be spared a second time.”

 

Erik does not dignify the hysterical woman one final glance.

To Erik Lehnsherr, to Magneto, Max Eisenhardt burned to death years ago along with his wife Magda and their only child Anya.

 

~x~

 

“I, no, _we_ mutants, should thank you. You’ve insured that one of the most powerful and charismatic mutants alive today is once and for all secure in his beliefs and determination.”

 

Emma and Azazel appeared in front of the human as soon as Erik levitated himself back to the car and drove back towards Westchester. She’s not proud to have had to set upon her ally armed humans, but desperate measures and all that.

 

“As a token of my appreciation, I will make sure your children will know their father. And if they turn out to be human, I’ll personally make their deaths swift and painless.”

 

Her words snap the still overwrought woman out of her terrified, frenzied state.

 

“W-what? No! L-leave my children out of this! They’re innoce-”

 

“Go.”

 

With a minute tilt of her head, Emma has the human walk herself in the direction of the water at the edge of the wharf. The two mutants watch on as the human walks off into the water, limbs trying to react against its forces but only managing to spasm under the mental lock. Only after the drowned, lifeless body surfaces and floats with the rhythm of the lapping water do the pair teleport away.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was all set on sitting down and finishing this chapter as well as the snapshot, but I woke up to a very long, scathing critique this morning, that although well intentioned, have certain parts striking a nerve.
> 
> I know my stories are galaxies away from perfect. My writing is often horrendous, repetitive and obviously amateur. I take too much liberty with prose construction, and should probably stop experimenting with different writing styles every story. 
> 
> All of my ficcing is done for fun and to kill time (back when I had an abundance of). I have no aspirations to become a published writer, fanfic is simply an outlet for me to engage in this fandom with. Of course, when one posts things in public domains you’re opening yourself up to criticism. But it’s one thing to offer constructive criticism and quite another to imply a whole load of negativity under the guise of concrit.
> 
> The reviewer did make many valid points about the implausibility of certain real world tie-ins that I know I could and should have researched properly and to that end, I am very sorry for blatantly demanding your stretch of imagination and/or logic. I’m not from the States, never even set foot on the continent, nor was I around in the 60s. I apologize to those who might have issue with my handwaves and overly convenient uses of coincidences and right next door locales. Perhaps it might be better if I added an AU tag.
> 
> If you've followed the story to this point, thank you so much for overlooking all the mistakes and implausibilities, I owe it to you wonderful readers who have actually read beyond the first chapter to make the necessary corrections. If there are any plot/fact/prose problems that have been nagging you, please do let me know and where possible, I'll do my best to correct it or answer with plausibility. When this story is finally complete, I’ll see about going back and doing one whole cohesive correction.


	23. Snapshot Interlude: The Man with the Brick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very very much for the utterly kind, supportive and encouraging comments/favs/kudos. I am just floored! Can’t begin to express how grateful I am to all your kindness and patience. I will work my hardest to complete this story for you all, and it also helps that I’ve definitely got a clearer picture of the journey towards the ending thanks to DoFP. 
> 
> Short little snapshot today, had been working on another one that’s turning into a monster, and I’ll need more time with it.

Charles, aged 4, occurs soon after the snapshot The Married Life (Chapter 13 Thirteen and Winter Heats Up)

 

 

* * *

 

Erik will forever curse the day Tony freaking Stark landed in the mansion’s main patio to coo and coddle at an overjoyed Charles, and immediately declare it time to break out the champagne and caviar, which seemed to be in endless supply from the private jet that followed in after the man sometime later, unable to keep up with the Ironman’s speed. Apparently Steve Rogers let spill Charles’ current predicament. 

 

It’s not even because Stark is human. Any human who can strut around the globe within a red metal suit while pissing off numerous political figureheads is passable in Erik’s books.

 

No. It’s because the world renowned billionaire, playboy, inventor, superhero and full time asshole brought Charles that gift.

 

“I owe Charlie here one of the first fully functional prototypes. And because I hand crafted these myself, I’ve customized it with my favourite colour.”

 

Stark’s wink should have been Erik’s first sign of impending doom. 

 

~x~

 

“Freeze! Hands in the air! Raise’em slowly!”

 

Erik knows without even looking at his peers that everyone’s eyes rolled at those words. Seriously, will they never learn?

 

“I think you’d all really prefer I not do that.”

 

It was a childish move, Erik knew that. However, scare tactics are effective and down right amusing at times. He’s been in a good mood ever since Stark had his ass whipped and called back to his multi-million empire by a Miss Potty, or at least that what Charles called her. With time to spare, Erik couldn’t resist a little psychological scarring.

 

“This is your final warning! We have you all fully surrounded! Put your hands in the air!”

 

Erik savours the dawning looks of dread and anxiety as his barely there smirk morphed into a manic, toothy smile, in time with the all too slow raise of his arms. But just as the metal manipulator was about to unleash his powers, an eardrum pinching shrill of a telephone ring cuts through the beautifully thick tension, making all the humans and even Raven jump in surprise. 

 

Shit.

 

Erik had completely forgotten about the hideous bulk of a contraption that is currently tied around his neck, not unlike a bell that dangles around a cow’s neck. It’s Stark’s gift to Charles. A prototype of what he calls the future of mass communication. A portable, wireless telephone. So advanced in its time, anyone would think it’s an oversized red brick hanging off the neck of a helmeted man who is overly fond of the colour maroon. The man would have much preferred the loathsome device be hooked onto his belt or something, but Charles had personally hand made, or rather haphazardly tied together the neck strap, recycling all the sparkly ribbon left over from Christmas wrapping. The boy was so proud of his ingenuity, no one would have the heart to refuse him.

 

The ringing continues unrepentantly, it’s obtrusive ignorance echoing throughout the large hollow space. After the sixth ring, Raven’s intricately scaled forehead furrowed together clearly saying one thing.

 

_ Pick up the bloody phone. Do you want all of us to get a migraine when we get back? _

 

Erik lets slip a resigned yet slightly fond sigh and pressed the green button, making the weighty red box sound a clear beep.

 

‘Ooo! Is stop ringing! Ullo Erik! ? Ullo! ? D’ya hear me!? Guess who! !”

 

Judging by the completely thrown look on even the human standing furthest away, the whole compound could hear the bubbly and excited voice of a young toddler with an accent that’s a weird mix of American and English. Charles still thought he needed to shout to be heard over the phone. It’s been one firm rule in the mansion that Charles is not to play with the telephone, for fear of yelling himself hoarse.

 

“Hello, Maus. I’m in the middle of someth-”

 

“Wow! How’d you know is me! ?”

 

“Of course I do, maus. Listen, I’m very sorry I have to cut this call short. I’m very busy-” 

 

“But nooooooo! ! ! But I wanna talk to you! Haven’t talk t’you since lunch! ...don’t you wanna talk to me back?”

 

Every single set of eyes, friend or foe, is now fixated on him alone, wondering how the man will respond to the little boy whose voice had gone quiet and shaky. But Erik knew better. Charles is a very clever, manipulative little boy. 

 

“I know you’re playing dirty, Charles. Now’s not the time.”

 

Caught in the act, the man can almost hear Charles’ legs swinging about guiltily from the stool the boy no doubt used to reach the phone with.

 

“But but guess what happened to me today!”

 

“Charles, I’m hangin-”

 

“Logan took me to the park and-”

 

Wait, what?

 

“Logan did what! ? Which park! ?”

 

It better not be where Erik thinks it is. 

 

“Yeah huh! We went to the park where we found him! And saw lotsa mommies wiht con-star-pasted faces taking the other kids away. I didn’t even gets the chance to practice my big boy words… But I can practice with you now!”

 

“No no no no no! That’s fine, I’ll be home very soon, you can tell me then, OK?”

 

“But Erik, what’s booty call mean? Why did Logan say I can help him call his boots at the park? I don’t wanna talk to his boots! Is that a game? Why haven’t you played it with me before? Is that what you’re doing right now without me? Do you wanna be talking to Logan’s boots and not me? How come you never call my boots?”

 

Before Erik has a chance to digest all of Charles’ words, there’s a shifting sound over the phone, then a muffled voice that belonged to Alex.

 

_ “Charles? Are you playing with the phone again? You know you’re not allowed, little man.”   
_

 

 

_ “Oh-oh…” _

 

_ “You didn’t call up the next Mr. Christmas and try to tell them off for impersonating Erik did you.” _

 

Charles had one day figured out by himself what the telephone book was, and had apparently called up two listed Christmas’ before his crusade was thwarted. 

 

_ “Nah uh! ! Is not a stranger, is Erik! I’mma booty call with Erik! !”  _

 

_ “W-what? ...wait, aren’t they on a mission or something?” _

 

There was utter silence for two seconds before Alex breaks into a bout of cackling and snorting. Suddenly the phone makes a couple of rapid beeps before the red LED bulb fades, signaling the batteries have been exhausted. Needless to say, all the humans have also been dealt with long before Erik had a chance to unleash his urge to de-skeleton a certain man upon his current foes. 

 

“You spoil him too much.”

 

Raven shakes her head with disapproval. 

 

“You’re the one who gave him the idea to have me lug around this brick!”

 

~x~

 

Two days later, Erik chokes on his freshly brewed espresso when he sees the front page headlines as well as a highly blurred picture obviously taken from afar. 

 

‘Mutant Terrorist Talks to Bricks!’

 

The newspaper is instantly in shreds, as well as the aforementioned brick.

 

Of course Charles would come skipping into the room right at that moment, skidding to an abrupt and dismayed stop.

 

“It’s OK, Erik. Hank said he knows how to make more of them too.” 

 

The toddler helped himself up onto Erik’s lap, giving the man a tight hug and patting at his head as if comforting a kicked puppy. 

 

“I’ll ask him to make you a bigga better one, so you won’t break it again! And then we can booty call all the time! !”

 

Fuck my life.


End file.
